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THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY 


THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 

OF  CIVIL  WAR  NOVELS 

PRESENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


Digitized  by  tlie  Internet  Arcliive 

in  2010  witli  funding  from 

University  of  Nortli  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


http://www.archive.org/details/sailorjacktrader01cast 


The  last  of  the  "Louisiana.' 


CASTLEMON'S  WAR  SERIES. 


Sailor  Jack,  the  Trader 


BY 

HARRY   CASTLEMON, 

AUTHOR   OF   "gunboat  SERIES,"    "  ROCKV   MOUNTAIN   SERIES," 
"  FOREST   AND   STREAM   SERIES,"    ETC.,    ETC. 


Four  Illustrations  by  Geo.  G,  White. 


PHILADELPHIA  : 

PORTER   &   COATES. 


COPTRIGHT,  1893, 
BT 

PORTER  &  COATES 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  FAQB 

I.  Tom  Randolph,  Conscript,     ....  1 

II.  Lambekt's  Signal-Fire,       ....  29 

III.  Mr.  Randolph  Carries  Tales,      ...  59 

IV.  The  Phantom  Bushwhackers,    ...  86 
V.  The  Cotton  Thieves,       .        .        .        .        .114 

VI.  The  Man  He  Wanted  to  See,  .        .        .  141 

VII.  S.'ULOR  Jack  in  Action 168 

VIII.  Bad  Netvs  from  Marcy 195 

IX.  Rodney  is  Astonished, 222 

X.  Mark  Goodwin's  Plan,        ....  247 

XI.  Ben  Makes  a  Failure 273 

XII.  Surprised  and  Captured,  ....  302 

XIII.  In  Williamston  Jail, 326 

XIV.  The  Prison  Pen, 350 

XV.  On  Account  op  the  Dead  Line,   .        .        .  375 

XVI.  Sailor  Jack,  the  Trader,          .        .        .  403 

XVII.  Conclusion, 435 


602909 


SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 


CHAPTER  I. 

TOM   RANDOLPH,    CONSCRIPT. 

"  "TXTELL,  by  gum  !     Am  I  dreamin'  ?    Is 
VV     tliis  Tom  Randolph  or  his  hant  ?  " 

"I  don't  wonder  that  you  are  surprised. 
It's  Tom  Randolph  easy  enough,  though  I 
can  hardly  believe  it  myself  when  I  look  in^ 
the  glass.  There  isn'  t  a  nigger  in  the  settle- 
ment that  isn't  better  clad  and  better  mounted 
than  I  am." 

"Well,  I  have  seen  you  when  you  looked  a 
trifle  pearter,  that's  a  fact." 

"  And  what  brought  me  to  this  ?  The  Yan- 
kees and  their  cowardly  sympathizers.  I  don't 
blame  the  boys  in  blue  so  much,  for  brave  sol- 
diers always  respect  one  another,  even  though 
their  sense  of  duty  compels  them  to  fight 
under  different  flags  ;  but  the  traitors  we  have 


2  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADEE. 

right  here  among  us  are  too  mean  to  be  of  any 
use.  And  the  meanest  one  among  them  is 
Rodney  Gray." 

The  first  speaker  was  Lieutenant  Lambert, 
wlio,  by  his  zealous  efforts  to  serve  the  cause 
of  the  South,  brought  about  the  bombardment 
of  Baton  Rouge,  and  the  person  whom  he 
addressed  was  the  redoubtable  Captain  Tom 
himself,  who  had  just  returned  to  Mooreville 
after  undergoing  two  months'  military  disci- 
pline at  Camp  Pinckney. 

The  last  time  we  saw  these  two  worthies  was 
shortly  after  the  Confederate  General  Breck- 
enridge  made  his  unsuccessful  attempt  to 
capture  Baton  Rouge,  and  the  conscripting 
officer,  Captain  Roach,  disappeared  so  com- 
pletely that  no  one  had  ever  heard  a  word  of 
him  since,  and  the  veteran  Major  Morgan, 
backed  by  fifty  soldiers  who  hated  all  Home 
Guards  and  other  skulkers  as  cordially  as  they 
hated  the  Yankees,  came  to  take  his  place. 
Knowing  that  Captain  Roach  had  been  very 
remiss  in  his  duty,  that  he  had  spent  more  time 
in  visiting  and  eating  good  dinners  than  he 
had  in  sending  conscripts  to  the  army,  Major 


TOM   RANDOLPH,    CONSCRIPT.  3 

Morgan  hardly  gave  liimself  time  to  take  pos- 
session of  the  office  in  Kimberley's  store  before 
he  declared  that  that  sort  of  work  was  going 
to  cease  entirely,  and  that  everyone  in  his  dis- 
trict who  was  liable  to  military  duty.  Home 
Guards  as  well  as  civilians,  must  start  for  the 
camp  of  instruction  at  once  or  be  taken  there 
by  force.  The  news  spread  rapidly,  and  in  a 
very  few  hours  everyone  in  the  settlement  had 
heard  it.  The  wounded  and  disabled  veterans 
of  the  Army  of  the  Centre,  of  whom  there 
were  a  goodly  number  in  the  neighborhood, 
were  overjoyed  to  learn  that  at  last  there  was 
a  man  in  the  conscripting  office  who  could  not 
be  trifled  with,  and  some  of  the  civilians,  who 
came  under  the  exemption  clause  of  the  Con- 
scription Act,  secretly  cherished  the  hope  that 
Captain  Tom  and  his  first  lieutenant  might  be 
sent  to  serve  under  Bragg,  who  did  not  scruple 
to  shoot  his  soldiers  for  the  most  trivial  offences. 
As  to  Tom  and  his  Home  Guards,  they  did 
not  at  first  pay  much  attention  to  the  major's 
threats.  It  was  right  that  civilians  should  be 
forced  to  shoulder  muskets,  since  they  would 
not  do  it  of  their  own  free  will,  but  as  for 


4  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

them,  they  were  State  troops,  and  the  gov- 
ernment at  Richmond  could  not  order  them 
around  as  it  j)leased.  Besides,  they  had  great 
confidence  in  Mrs.  Randolph's  powers  of  per- 
suasion. She  would  never  permit  her  son  to 
go  into  the  army,  and  having  managed  Captain 
Roach  pretty  near  as  she  pleased,  the  Home 
Guards  did  not  see  why  she  could  not  manage 
Major  Morgan  as  well ;  but  when  it  became 
noised  abroad  that  the  latter  had  curtly  refused 
Mrs.  Randolph's  invitation  to  dinner,  intimat- 
ing that  he  was  not  ordered  to  Mooreville  to 
waste  his  time  in  visiting  and  nonsense,  they 
were  terribly  frightened,  and  demanded  that 
Captain  Tom  should  "  see  them  through." 
When  they  enlisted  in  his  company,  he  prom- 
ised to  stand  between  them  and  the  Confeder- 
ate authorities,  and  now  was  the  time  for  him 
to  make  that  promise  good  ;  but  Tom  was  as 
badly  frightened  as  they  were,  and  did  not 
know  what  to  do.  When  his  mother  suggested 
that  it  might  be  well  for  him  to  put  his  com- 
mission in  his  pocket,  and  ride  to  Mooreville 
and  talk  the  matter  over  with  the  major,  Tom 
almost  went  frantic. 


TOM   RANDOLPH,    CONSCRIPT.  0 

"Go  down  there  and  face  that  despot 
alone,"  he  exclaimed,  "while  he  has  fifty 
veterans  at  his  back  to  obey  his  slightest 
wish?  I'd  about  as  soon  be  shot  and  have 
done  with  it.  Besides,  what  have  I  got  to 
ride  ?    The  Yankees  have  stolen  me  afoot." 

Captain  Tom  knew  well  enough  that  he  was 
not  telling  the  truth.  It  wasn't  Yankees  who 
"stole  him  afoot,"  but  men  who  wore  the 
same  kind  of  uniform  he  did.  You  will  re- 
member that  we  compared  the  short  visit  of 
Breckenridge's  army  to  a  plague  of  locusts. 
Everything  in  the  shape  of  eatables  in  and 
around  Mooreville,  as  well  as  some  articles  of 
value,  disappeared  and  were  never  heard  of 
afterward  ;  and  among  those  articles  of  value 
were  several  fine  horses,  Tom  Randolph's 
being  one  of  the  first  to  turn  up  missing.  His 
expensive  saddle  and  bridle  disappeared  at 
the  same  time,  and  now,  if  Tom  wanted  to  go 
anywhere,  he  was  obliged  to  walk  or  ride  a 
plough  mule  bare-back,  which  was  harrowing 
to  his  feelings.  He  wouldn'  t  ajppear  before  a 
Confederate  officer  of  rank  in  any  such  style 
as  that,  he  said,  and  that  was  all  there  was 


6  SAILOU  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

about  it.  But,  as  it  happened,  tlie  conscript- 
ing officer  had  a  word  to  say  on  that  point. 
On  the  morning  following  his  arrival  in  the 
village  a  couple  of  strange  troopers  galloped 
into  Mr.  Randolph's  front  yard  and  drew  up 
at  the  steps  with  a  jerk.  Captain  Tom's  heart 
sank  when  he  saw  them  coming,  for  something 
told  him  that  they  were  after  him  and  nobody 
else;  and  paying  no  heed  to  the  earnest  en- 
treaties of  his  mother,  who  assured  him  that 
he  might  as  well  face  them  one  time  as  another, 
for  he  could  not  save  himself  by  flight,  he  dis- 
appeared like  a  shot  through  the  nearest  door, 
leaving  her  to  explain  his  absence  in  any  way 
she  thought  proper.  But  after  taking  a 
second  look  at  the  unwelcome  visitors,  Mrs. 
Randolph  knew  it  would  be  of  no  use  to  try 
to  shield  the  timid  Home  Guard.  The  trooper 
who  ascended  the  steps,  leaving  his  comrade  to 
hold  his  horse,  was  a  rough-looking  fellow,  as 
well  he  might  be,  for  he  had  seen  hard  service. 
The  little  pieces  of  metal  on  his  huge  Texas 
spurs  tinkled  musically,  his  heavy  cavalry  sabre 
clanked  against  his  heels  as  he  walked,  and 
Mrs.  Randolph  thought  there  was  something 


TOM   RANDOLPH,    CONSCRIPT.  7 

threatening  in  tlie  sound.  He  lifted  his  cap 
respectfully,  but  said  in  a  brisk  business  tone  : 

"I'd  like  to  see  Tom  Randolph,  if  you 
please." 

"Do  you  mean  Captain  Randolph?"  cor- 
rected the  lady. 

"  No,  ma'am.  He  was  given  to  me  as  plain 
Tom  Randolph,  and  that  is  the  only  name  I 
know  him  by.  I'd  like  to  see  him,  if  you 
please." 

"Will  you  step  in  while  I  go  and  find 
him?" 

"Thank  you,  no.  I  have  no  time  to  sit 
down.     I  am  in  a  great  hurry." 

"You  can  spare  a  moment  to  tell  me,  his 
mother,  what  you  are  going  to  do  with  him, 
can  you  not  ?" 

"All  I  can  say  is  that  the  major  wants  to 
see  him  at  once,"  was  the  short  answer. 

"Do  you  know  what  the  major  wants  of  him, 
so  that  I  can  explain " 

"Pardon  me  if  I  say  that  no  explanations 
are  necessar3\  It  is  enough  for  him  to  know 
that  Major  Morgan  wants  to  see  him  without 
a  moment's  delay." 


8  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

The  tone  in  wliicli  the  words  were  spoken 
satisfied  Mrs.  Randolpii  that  the  impatient 
trooper  could  not  be  put  off  any  longer,  so  she 
turned  about  and  went  into  the  house.  She 
knew  that  Tom  had  gone  straight  to  her  room, 
and  when  she  tried  the  door  she  found  that  he 
had  locked  himself  in. 

"Who's  there?"  demanded  a  husky  voice 
from  the  inside. 

"  It  is  I,  my  dear,  and  I  am  alone,"  was  the 
reply.  "Let  me  in  at  once.  Now,  call  all 
your  courage  to  your  aid,  and  show  yourself 
the  brave  soldier  you  were  on  the  night  you 
knocked  that  Yankee  sentinel  down  with  the 
butt  of  a  musket  and  escaped  being  sent  to 
a  Northern  prison-pen,"  she  continued,  as  she 
slipped  through  the  half  open  door,  which  was 
quickly  closed  and  locked  behind  her.  "  Major 
Morgan  wants  to  see  you  at  his  office,  and,  my 
dear,  you  had  better  go  at  once.  The  man  at 
the  door  will  not  wait  much  longer." 

"  I  don't  care  if  he  won't,"  shouted  Captain 
Tom,  who  was  terribly  alarmed.  "  If  he  gets 
tired  of  standing  there,  let  him  go  back 
where  he  came  from  and  tell  that  major  that 


TOM   RANDOLPH,    CONSCRIPT.  9 

I — what  business  has  that  fellow  got  out 
there?" 

Tom  chanced  to  look  through  the  window 
while  he  was  talking,  and  when  he  saw  one  of 
the  troopers  ride  down  the  carriage-way  as  if 
he  were  going  to  the  rear  of  the  house,  it 
flashed  upon  him  that  the  man  was  going  there 
to  watch  the  back  door.  At  the  same  moment 
the  jingling  of  spurs  and  the  rattling  of  a 
sabre  were  heard  in  the  next  room,  the  door 
knob  was  tried  by  a  strong  hand,  and  some- 
thing that  might  have  been  the  toe  of  a  heavy 
boot  was  propelled  with  considerable  force 
against  the  door  itself. 

"Open  up  here,"  commanded  a  stern  voice 
on  the  other  side.  "  Do  it  at  once,  or  I  shall 
be  obliged  to  force  an  entrance." 

This  threat  brought  Captain  Tom  to  his 
senses.  In  a  second  the  door  was  unlocked 
and  opened,  and  the  soldier  stepi)ed  into  the 
room. 

"By  what  right  does  Major  Morgan " 

began  Tom. 

"I  don't  know  a  thing  about  it,"  was  the 
quick  reply.     "It  is  no  part  of  my  duty  to 


10  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TEADER. 

inquire  into  my  superior's  private  affairs.  All 
I  can  say  is  that  I  am  commanded  to  bring 
Tom  Randolph  before  him  without  loss  of 
time.  You  are  Tom  Randolph,  I  take  it. 
Then  saddle  up  and  come  with  me." 

"But  the  Yankees  stole  my  horse  and  I 
have  nothing  to  ride  except  a  mule,"  whined 
Tom. 

"Then  ride  the  mule  or  come  afoot.  Make 
up  your  mind  to  something,  for  I  am  going  to 
start  in  half  a  minute  by  the  watch." 

"  You  will  give  my  son  time  to  exchange 
his  citizen's  clothes  for  his  captain's  uniform, 
of  course,"  ventured  Mrs.  Randolph. 

"  Sorry  I  haven't  an  instant  to  wait,  but  the 
color  of  his  clothes  will  make  no  sort  of  differ- 
ence to  Major  Morgan,"  was  the  reply.  "  Now 
then,  will  you  order  up  that  mule,  or  walk,  or 
ride  double  with  my  man  ? " 

"  Are  you  an  oflBcer  ?  "  faltered  Tom. 

"  Not  much  of  one — only  a  captain." 

"  Well,  that  puts  a  different  look  on  the 
matter  entirely,"  said  Tom,  who  up  to  this 
time  thought  he  was  being  ordered  around  by 
a  private  soldier.     "Since  you  are  an  officer 


TOM   RANDOLPH,    CONSCRIPT.  11 

I  expect  to  receive  an  officer' s  treatment  from 
you,  and  I  don't  wish  to  be  addressed " 

"That's  all   right.     But  hurry  up,  for  the 
time  is  precious." 

Being  satisfied  at  last  that  his  meeting  with 
the  dreaded  conscript  ofliicer  could  not  be  de- 
layed any  longer,  Captain  Tom  hastened  to 
his  room  after  his  commission,  while  his 
mother  sent  a  darky  to  the  stable-yard  to 
bring  up  the  solitary  mule  that  had  been  left 
there  when  the  few  remaining  field-hands 
went  to  work  in  the  morning.  And  a  very 
sorry-looking  beast  it  proved  to  be  when  it 
was  led  to  the  door — too  decrepit  to  work,  and 
so  weak  with  age  that  it  fairly  staggered  as 
Tom  threw  his  weight  upon  the  sheepskin 
which  the  thoughtful  darky  had  placed  on 
the  animal's  back  to  serve  in  lieu  of  a  saddle. 
A  sorry  picture  Captain  Tom  made,  too, 
when  he  was  mounted  ;  but  he  had  no  choice 
between  going  that  way  and  riding  double 
with  a  private,  and  that  was  a  thing  he  could 
not  bring  himself  to  do. 

While  they  were  on  their  way  to  town  Cap- 
tain Tom  made  several  fruitless  attempts  to 


12  SAILOE  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

induce  his  captors — for  that  was  just  what  they 
were — to  give  him  some  idea  of  what  he  might 
expect  when  he  presented  himself  before  the 
major ;  but  although  he  could  not  prevail 
upon  them  to  say  a  word  on  that  subject,  he 
was  able  to  make  a  pretty  shrewd  guess  as  to 
the  nature  of  the  business  in  hand,  and  if  he 
had  known  that  he  was  going  to  prison  for  a 
long  term  of  years  he  could  not  have  felt  so 
utterly  wretched  and  disheartened. 

"If  I  were  going  to  jail  I  might  have  a  chance 
to  get  pardoned  out,"  thought  Tom,  "but  the 
only  way  to  get  out  of  the  army  is  to  be  killed 
or  have  an  arm  or  leg  shot  off.  I'd  be  per- 
fectly willing  to  go  if  Jeff  Davis  and  all  his 
Cabinet  could  be  compelled  to  go  too.  I'm 
afraid  I  am  in  for  trouble  this  time,  sure.". 

If  Captain  Tom  had  any  lingering  doubts  on 
this  point  they  were  dispelled  in  less  than  half 
a  minute  after  he  entered  the  enrolling  ofBce. 
He  had  never  before  met  the  grizzly  veteran 
who  sat  at  Captain  Roach's  desk  with  a  multi- 
tude of  papers  before  him,  and  when  their 
short  interview  was  ended  Captain  Tom  hoped 
from  the  bottom  of  his  heart  that  he  might 


TOM   RANDOLPH,    CONSCRIPT.  13 

never  meet  him  again.  He  proved  to  be  just 
what  he  looked — a  thorough  soldier,  who  had 
come  there  with  the  determination  to  perform 
his  disagreeable  duty  without  fear  or  favor. 
Every  man  in  the  office  was  a  stranger  to  Tom. 
There  were  stacks  of  carbines  and  cavalry 
sabres  in  all  the  corners,  horses  saddled  and 
bridled  were  hitched  to  the  rack  in  front  of 
the  door,  and  there  were  a  few  tanned  and 
weather-beaten  soldiers  standing  around  ready 
to  start  at  the  word,  but  there  was  not  a  Home 
Guard  to  be  seen. 

"This  is  Tom  Randolph,  sir,"  was  the  way 
in  which  one  of  the  guards  brought  the  new- 
comer to  the  notice  of  the  conscript  officer. 
"Don't  sit  down,"  he  added  a  moment  later, 
as  Tom  drew  a  chair  toward  him.  "Take 
off  your  hat." 

Captain  Randolph  was  amazed,  for  this  was 
not  the  way  he  had  always  been  treated  in 
that  office.  Hitherto  he  had  been  a  privi- 
leged character,  and  had  had  as  much  to  say 
as  Captain  Roach  himself ;  but  now  things 
were  changed,  and  for  the  first  time  in  his 
life  Tom  was  made  to  see  that  he  was  not  of  so 


14  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

much  importance  in  the  world  as  he  had  sup- 
posed himself  to  be.  He  took  off  his  hat,  but 
noticed  that  the  soldiers  in  the  room  did  not 
remove  theirs,  and  that  nettled  him.  So  did 
the  manner  in  which  the  major  acknowledged 
the  introduction,  if  such  it  could  be  called. 
He  did  not  offer  to  shake  hands  as  Tom  thought 
he  would,  but  merely  looked  over  the  top  of 
his  spectacles  for  a  moment.  Then  he  pulled 
a  sheet  of  paper  toward  him,  ran  his  finger 
down  the  list  of  names  written  on  it  until  he 
had  found  the  one  he  wanted,  and  made  a  short 
entry  opposite  to  it ;  after  which  he  pushed 
away  the  paper  and  said  : 

"Report  at  one  o'clock  this  afternoon. 
That's  all." 

"But,  major,"  Tom  almost  gasped,  "  what 
am  I  to  report  for?" 

"What  for?  Why,  marching  orders,  of 
course." 

"  AVell,  will  you  tell  me  where  I  am  to 
march?" 

"  Along  the  road  that  leads  to  the  camp  of  in- 
struction. Where  else  should  a  recruit  march 
to,  I'd  like  to  know.     You're  conscripted." 


TOM  EANDOLPn,    CONSCRIPT.  15 

"But,  major,"  protested  Tom,  drawing  forth 
an  official  envelope  with  hands  that  trembled 
so  violently  that  he  could  scarcely  control 
them,  "I  really  don't  see  how  you  can  con- 
script me.  I  am  a  captain  in  the  State  troops, 
and  there's  my  commission  from  the  gov- 
ernor." 

"  It  isn't  worth  straws,"  answered  the  major, 
snapping  his  fingers  in  the  air.  "  Don't  want 
to  see  it.     Besides,  you  have  resigned." 

"But  my  resignation  has  not  been  ac- 
cepted." 

"  That  doesn't  matter.  It  will  be,  for  there 
are  no  such  things  as  State  troops  now,  I  am 
happy  to  say.  You're  liable  to  military  duty 
easy  enough,  and — that's  all." 

"I  retain  my  rank,  don't  I,  sir? "  said  Tom. 

It  was  astonishing  what  an  effect  this  simple 
question  had  upon  the  occupants  of  the  room. 
Some  quickly  turned  their  faces  to  the  wall, 
others  tiptoed  through  the  nearest  doors,  and 
all  shook  with  suppressed  merriment.  The 
major  jerked  his  spectacles  off  his  nose,  looked 
hard  at  Tom  to  see  if  he  were  really  in  earnest, 
and  cleared  his  throat  before  he  replied  : 


16  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

"No,  sir;  you  will  begin  as  Private  Ran- 
dolph, but  will  be  given  every  opportunity  to 
show  what  you  are  made  of,  and  to  win  a  com- 
mission that  is  worth  something  more  than  the 
pajier  it  happens  to  be  written  on.  Don't 
worry  about  that.  Well,  sergeant,  where  are 
the  men  I  ordered  you  to  bring  before  me?" 

Hardly  able  to  tell  whether  he  was  awake 
or  dreaming,  Tom  Randolph  yielded  to  the 
friendly  hand  that  was  laid  upon  his  arm,  and 
suffered  himself  to  be  led  away  from  the  desk, 
his  place  being  immediately  filled  by  four 
brawny  soldiers,  who  raised  their  hands  with  a 
military  salute.  The  first  words  one  of  them 
spoke  aroused  Tom  from  his  stupor  and  inter- 
ested him. 

"We  didn't  find  Lambert  and  Moseley  to 
home,  sir.  They  must  have  had  warnin',  I 
reckon,  for  they've  took  to  the  bresh.'"' 

"They  needn't  think  to  escape  me  by  re- 
sorting to  any  such  trick  as  that,"  said  the 
major  grimly.  "They  owe  a  duty  to  their 
country  in  this  hour  of  her  peril,  and  they've 
got  to  do  it.  I'll  have  a  detail  watch  their 
houses  night  and  day  till  they  come  back." 


TOM  RANDOLPH,    CONSCRIPT.  17 

Tom  Randolpli  could  hardly  believe  that  the 
soldier  who  laid  his  hand  upon  his  arm  and 
conducted  him  to  a  remote  corner  of  the  room, 
so  that  they  could  talk  without  danger  of  be- 
ing overheard,  was  the  same  captain  who  had 
been  so  impatient  and  peremptory  with  him 
and  his  mother  a  short  time  before,  but  such 
was  the  fact.  Having  performed  his  duty  and 
brought  his  prisoner  to  the  office,  as  he  had 
been  told  to  do,  the  cax'>tain  had  thrown  off  his 
soldier  airs  and  was  as  jolly  and  friendly  a 
fellow  as  one  would  care  to  meet. 

"You  see  you  are  going  to  have  good  com- 
pany while  you  are  in  camp,"  said  he. 

"I  don't  know  what  you  call  good  com- 
pany," snarled  Tom.  "Lambert  is  nothing 
more  than  a  common  overseer,  while  Moseley 
is  a  chicken  and  hog  thief.  Good  company, 
indeed !" 

"  But  we  heard  that  they  are  officers  in  your 
company  of  Home  Guards,"  said  the  captain 
in  a  surprised  tone. 

"They  were  chosen  against  my  earnest  pro- 
test," replied  Tom,  "but  they  have  never  been 
commissioned  by  the  governor.  Their  election 
2 


18  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

was  not  legal,  and  so  I  didn't  report  it.  But, 
captain,  I  don't  think  your  major  has  any 
authority  to  ride  over  the  governor  in  this 
rough  way." 

"Hasn't  he  a  right  to  conscript  everyone 
who  does  not  come  under  the  exemption 
clause  ? "  answered  the  captain.  *'  If  you  have 
read  that  act  I  will  venture  to  say  that  you 
did  not  see  the  words  'Home  Guards'  in  it. 
Come  now." 

"But  I  am  my  father's  overseer,"  said  Tom, 
switching  off  on  another  track. 

"Since  when?" 

"Since  long  before  Breckenridge  made  his 
attack  on  Baton  Rouge." 

"  Where  are  you  employed? " 

"  On  the  home  plantation." 

"  Your  father  doesn't  need  two  overseers  on 
the  home  plantation,  does  he  ?  He  has  claimed 
exemption  for — what's  his  name  ? — Larkin." 

"And  didn't  he  say  a  word  about  me  ? " 

"The  records  of  the  office  don't  show  it. 
Now  let  me  tell  you  something.  If  your  father 
wants  to  claim  exemption  for  you  instead  of 
Larkin  no  doubt  he  can  manage  it  with  Gen- 


TOM  RANDOLPH,    CONSCRIPT.  19 

eral  Ruggles,  wlio  is  in  command  at  Camp 
Pinckney.  Major  Morgan  Las  no  authority  to 
act  in  such  cases.  Just  now  your  duty  is  to 
go  home  and  make  ready  to  report  at  one 
o'clock  sharp.  Don't  be  a  second  behind  time 
unless  you  want  to  get  the  rough  side  of  the 
major's  tongue." 

"  What  shall  I  do  to  get  ready  ? " 

"  Why,  pack  up  a  suit  or  two  of  your  strong- 
est clothes,  an  extra  pair  of  shoes  and  stock- 
ings, and  a  few  blankets,  which  I  assure  you 
will  come  handy  for  shelter  tents  when  you 
take  the  field." 

"And  you  don't  think  of  any  way  in  which 
I  can  get  out  of  it?"  said  Tom  in  a  choking 
voice. 

"Oh,  no.  Thafs  a  dead  open  and  shut. 
You've  got  to  go  to  camp  and  stay  there  while 
your  friends  are  working  to  get  you  out,  if 
that  is  what  you  want  them  to  do.  But  I 
wouldn't  let  them  make  any  move  in  that 
direction  if  I  were  you.  Why  don't  you  go 
with  us  and  make  a  man  of  yourself  ?  We  are 
whipping  the  Yankees  right  along,  and  you 
will  have  plenty  of    chances  to  distinguish 


20  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

yourself.  We're  bound  to  gain  our  inde- 
pendence, and  don't  you  want  to  be  able  to 
say  that  you  had  a  hand  in  it  ? " 

The  captain's  earnest  words  did  not  send  any 
thrill  of  patriotism  into  the  heart  of  Tom  Ran- 
dolph, who  just  then  wished  that  the  Yankees 
would  sweep  through  Mooreville  in  irresistible 
numbers,  put  an  end  to  the  war  in  a  moment, 
and  so  keep  him  from  going  to  Camp  Pinck- 
ney.  He  turned  sorrowfully  away  from  the 
captain,  who  had  really  tried  to  befriend  him 
by  giving  what  he  thought  to  be  good  advice, 
mounted  his  aged  mule,  and  set  out  for  home. 
His  mother's  face  brightened  when  he  dis- 
mounted at  the  foot  of  the  steps,  but  fell 
instantly  when  Tom  told  her  that  she  had  bet- 
ter take  a  good  long  look  at  him  while  she  had 
the  chance,  for  after  that  day  was  past  she 
would  never  see  him  again.  Of  course  there 
was  mourning  in  that  house  when  he  told  his 
story,  and  the  gloom  that  rested  there  was  but 
partially  dispelled  by  Mr.  Randolph's  promise 
to  discharge  Larkin  without  loss  of  time  and 
claim  exemption  for  Tom  in  his  stead. 

"If  you  could  do  it  this  minute  it  would 


TOM   KANDOLPH,    CONSCRIPT.  21 

not  keep  me  from  going  to  tlie  camp  of  instruc- 
tion," whined  Tom,  "for  the  major  has  no 
authority  to  do  anything  but  conscript  every- 
body he  can  get  his  hands  on." 

"Has  he  warned  Ned  Griffin  and  Rodney 
Gray?"  inquired  Mrs.  Randolph. 

"That's  so,"  exclaimed  Tom  angrily. 
"  What  a  dunce  I  was  not  to  speak  to  the 
captain  about  those  fellows !  But  I  was  so 
taken  up  with  my  own  affairs  that  I  never 
once  thought  of  it.  However,  I'll  think  of  it 
when  I  go  down  to  the  office  at  one  o'clock,  I 
bet  you.  And,  father,  if  you  get  on  the  track 
of  Lambert  and  Moseley,  don't  fail  to  let  the 
major  know  it.  If  I've  got  to  be  disgraced 
I  want  them  to  keep  me  company." 

"I  will  bear  it  in  mind,"  answered  Mr. 
Randolph.  "And  since  one  o'clock  isn't  so 
very  far  off,  hadn'  t  you  better  get  ready  ?  " 

The  conscript  thought  this  a  very  heartless 
suggestion  and  so  did  his  mother ;  but  they 
could  not  deny  that  there  was  reason  in  it,  and 
so  preparations  for  Tom's  departure  were 
made  at  once.  The  parting  which  took  place 
an  hour  or  so  later  was  a  tearful  one  on  Tom's 


22  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

part  as  well  as  liis  mother's,  but  there  was  not 
very  much  sorrow  exhibited  by  the  black 
servants  who  crowded  into  the  dining-room  to 
shake  his  hand,  as  they  were  in  duty  bound  to 
do,  and  Tom  made  the  mental  resolution  that, 
when  he  returned  from  Camp  Pinckney  to  take 
his  place  as  overseer  on  the  plantation,  he 
would  see  them  well  paid  for  their  indifference. 
He  rode  in  his  mother's  carriage  this  time, 
accompanied  by  his  father  and  a  bundle  of 
things  that  would  have  filled  a  soldier's  knap- 
sack to  overflowing.  When  the  carriage  turned 
into  the  street  that  ran  past  Kimberley's  store, 
Tom  thrust  his  head  out  of  the  window,  but 
instantly  pulled  it  in  again  to  say,  while  tears 
of  vexation  filled  his  eyes  and  ran  down  his 
cheeks  : 

"  There's  a  bigger  crowd  of  people  in  front 
of  the  oflice  than  I  ever  saw  before.  No  doubt 
some  of  them  will  be  glad  to  know  I  have  been 
conscripted ;  but  if  you  have  the  luck  I  am 
sure  you  will  have,  I  shall  be  back  to  turn  the 
laugh  on  them  before  many  days  have  passed 
over  my  head.  Just  look,  father,  and  remem- 
ber the  name  of  every  one  who  has  a  slighting 


TOM   KANDOLPH,    CONSCRIPT.  23 

word  or  glance  for  me,  so  that  I  may  settle  with 
him  at  some  future  time.  I  hope  Rodney  and 
Ned  GrifSn  are  there." 

"You've  got  your  wish,"  replied  Mr. 
Randolph,  after  he  had  run  his  eye  over  the 
crowd,  which  extended  clear  across  the  street 
to  the  hitching-rack.  "Rodney  and  Ned  are 
there,  but  they  seem  to  be  standing  on  the 
outskirts." 

Tom  mustered  up  courage  enough  to  look 
again,  and  then  he  saw  what  his  father  meant 
by  "the  outskirts."  There  were  three  dis- 
tinct classes  of  people  in  that  gathering.  In 
the  middle  of  the  crowd  and  in  front  of  the 
office  stood  two  score  conscripts,  who  were 
closely  guarded  by  half  as  many  of  Major 
Morgan's  veterans.  Some  of  the  conscripts 
seemed  resolved  to  make  the  best  of  the  situa- 
tion, and  joked  and  laughed  with  their  friends 
and  relatives  who  had  assembled  to  see  them 
off,  and  who  formed  the  third  class  that  stood 
outside  the  guards ;  but  Tom  noticed  that 
most  of  their  number  looked  very  unhappy 
indeed.  Tom  did  not  see  Rodney  and  Ned, 
but  he  discovered  several  disabled  veterans  of 


24  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER, 

Bragg' s  army  witli  wiiom  lie  had  a  speaking 
acquaintance,  and  they  in  turn  discovered  him 
and  sent  up  a  shout  of  welcome. 

"Hey-youp  !  Here  comes  another,  and  I  do 
think  in  my  soul  it's  Captain  Tommy  Ran- 
dolph," exclaimed  one.  "It's  him,  for  I  know 
that  there  kerridge." 

"  An'  they  tell  me  that  you  might  jest  as  well 
be  in  the  army  to  onct  as  to  be  in  that  camp," 
chimed  in  a  second  veteran.  "  There  aint  no 
sich  thing  as  gettin'  away  when  they  get  a  grip 
onto  you." 

"Not  by  no  means,"  cried  a  third.  "  Kase 
why,  don't  you  know  that  they  keep  a  pack  of 
nigger  hound  dogs  there  that  aint  got  nothin'  in 
the  wide  world  to  do  but  jest  chase  deserters  ?  " 

The  tone  in  which  the  taunting  words  were 
tittered  was  highly  exasperating  to  Tom,  whose 
face  grew  red  with  anger. 

"I  wouldn't  mind  them,"  said  his  father 
soothingly.  "That'sonly  soldiers' fun.  They 
don't  mean  anything  by  it," 

"  I'll  try  not  to  mind  them  now,  but  I'll  get 
even  with  every  one  of  them  when  I  come 
back,"  said  Tom  savagely. 


TOM   RANDOLPH,    CONSCRIPT.  25 

Stepping  out  of  the  carriage,  and  showing 
himself  to  that  little  mob  of  laughing,  jeering 
soldiers,  was  one  of  the  most  trying  ordeals 
that  Tom  Randolph  ever  passed  through,  but 
there  was  no  way  to  escape  it.  As  he  hurried 
through  their  ranks  toward  the  guards,  who 
stood  aside  to  let  him  pass,  they  sent  a  few 
more  words  of  advice  and  encouragement  after 
him. 

"  Where's  all  your  purty  clothes.  Tommy  ? " 
inquired  one.  "  Go  home  to  onct  an'  get  'em. 
If  you  don't,  them  fule  Yanks  will  think  you 
are  notliin'  but  a  dog- gone  private." 

"  Don't  listen  to  him,  Tommy,"  said  another. 
"  The  Yanks  always  pick  for  officers  in  battle, 
an'  they're  dead  shots,  I  tell  you." 

"You're  mighty  right,"  chorused  a  dozen 
voices.  "I  never  did  see  anybody  who  could 
shoot  like  them  Yanks.  I'm  glad  I  aint  got 
to  face  'em  agin,  tell  your  folks.  I  wouldn't 
do  it  for  all  the  money  the  Confedrit  gov'ment 
is  worth." 

"It's  a  disgrace  the  w^ay  those  fellows  are 
allowed  to  go  on,"  said  Tom  to  the  first  soldier 
he  met  when  he  entered  the  office,  and  who 


26  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

turned  out  to  be  the  captain  wliose  acquaint- 
ance he  had  made  that  morning.  "Why  don' t 
you  put  a  stop  to  it  ? " 

' '  Aw  !  They  want  some  sport,  don' t  they  ? ' ' 
was  the  answer.  "  Let  them  go  ahead  with  it 
until  they  get  tired,  and  then  they  will  stop. 
Besides,  you  might  as  well  get  used  to  such 
talk  one  time  as  another,  for  you  will  hear 
plenty  of  it  in  the  army." 

"But  you  mustn't  permit  them  to  force  me 
into  the  army,"  whispered  Tom  to  his  father. 
"If  you  do,  you  will  always  be  sorry  for  it, 
because  you  will  never  see  me  again." 

In  a  dazed  sort  of  way  Tom  reported  to  the 
major,  and  then  tried  to  hide  himself  in  a 
corner  of  the  office  where  he  would  be  out  of 
sight  of  his  tormentors,  but  he  was  quickly 
routed  from  there  by  one  of  the  major's  men, 
who  told  him  to  go  outside  where  he  would  be 
under  the  eye  of  the  guard.  Of  course  his 
appearance  was  the  signal  for  another  outburst 
from  the  veterans,  but  he  wisely  tried  to  drown 
their  gibes  by  entering  into  conversation  with 
a  conscript  who  looked  as  disconsolate  and 
wretched  as  Tom  himself  felt.     His  father  had 


TOM   EANDOLPH,    CONSCRIPT.  "Jl 

given  the  bundle  into  his  keeping,  and  taken 
his  place  outside  the  guards  with  the  rest  of 
the  exempts,  and  Tom  began  to  realize  how  it 
seemed  to  be  alone  in  a  crowd.  Rodney  and 
Ned  did  not  come  near  him,  and  that  made  him 
angry  and  threaten  vengeance.  They  might  at 
least  shake  hands  with  him  and  assure  him  of 
their  sympathy,  Tom  thought,  but  if  they  had 
been  foolish  enough  to  attempt  it,  it  is  more 
than  probable  that  he  would  have  turned  his 
back  upon  them.  More  than  that,  Rodney 
Gray  was  not  a  hypocrite.  Having  had  the 
most  to  do  with  the  breaking  up  of  Tom's 
company  of  Home  Guards,  he  would  have 
uttered  a  deliberate  untruth  if  he  had  said  he 
was  sorry  to  see  him  conscripted.  He  wasn't ; 
he  would  have  been  sorry  to  see  him  stay  at 
home. 

"And  when  he  reaches  the  camp  of  instruc- 
tion I  hope  some  strict  drill-sergeant  will  put 
him  through  an  extra  course  of  sprouts  to  pay 
him  for  the  mean  trick  he  tried  to  play  on 
Dick  Graham,"  said  Rodney  to  his  friend  Ned. 
"  I  could  have  told  things  that  would  have  got 
all  the  Pinckney  guards  down  on  him  if  I  had 


28  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER, 

been  so  disposed,  and  now  I  am  glad  I  didn't 
do  it.  There  lie  goes.  Good-by,  Tom  Ran- 
dolph." 

"Fall  in!"  shouted  a  stentorian  voice. 
"Not  off  there,  but  here,  with  the  right  rest- 
ing where  I  stand.  Haven' t  you  Home  Guards 
been  drilled  enough  to  learn  how  to  fall  in  in 
two  ranks  ?  Face  out  that  way  toward  the 
liitching-rack.     Now  listen  to  roll-call!" 

In  ten  minutes  more  the  conscripts  had 
answered  to  their  names  and  were  headed 
toward  Camp  Pinckney,  marching  in  a  crooked 
straggling  line  with  their  bundles  on  their 
shoulders  and  armed  guards  on  each  side  of 
them.  There  were  forty-five  in  all,  and  two- 
thirds  of  them  were  Home  Guards.  There 
were  many  sober  and  tearful  faces  among  the 
spectators  when  they  moved  away,  and  even 
the  discharged  veterans  must  have  taken  the 
matter  seriously,  for  they  did  not  utter  one 
taunting  word. 


CHAPTER  II. 
Lambert's  signal-fire. 

A  FEW  of  Tom  Randolph's  fellow-sufferers 
had  repeatedly  declared  in  his  hearing 
that  they  never  would  be  taken  to  Camp 
Pinckney  alive  ;  but  when  the  roll  was  called 
inside  the  stockade  at  sunset  the  following 
day,  their  dreary,  toilsome  march  having  been 
completed  by  that  time,  every  one  of  them 
answered  to  his  name.  Not  one  of  their  num- 
ber had  made  his  escape,  and  indeed  it  would 
have  been  foolhardy  to  attempt  it,  for  the 
guards  were  alert  and  watchful,  and  it  was 
whispered  along  the  line  that  they  had  strict 
orders  to  shoot  down  the  first  nian  who  tried 
to  break  away, 

Not  to  dwell  too  long  upon  this  part  of  our 
story,  it  will  be  enough  to  say  tliat  Tom  Ran- 
dolph remained  in  the  camp  of  instruction  for 
two  solid  months,  during  which  time  he  suf- 
fered more  than  he   thought  it  possible  for 

29 


30  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADEE. 

mortal  man  to  endure.  He  was  given  plenty 
to  eat,  such  as  it  was,  but  scarcely  a  niglit 
passed  that  he  was  not  aroused  from  a  sound 
sleep  to  go  on  post  or  to  repel  an  assault  that 
was  never  made,  and  during  the  day-time  he 
was  drilled  in  the  school  of  the  soldier  and 
company,  and  in  the  manual  of  arms,  until  all 
the  muscles  in  him  ached  so  that  he  could  not 
lie  still  after  he  went  to  bed.  Every  hour  in 
the  day  indignities  were  put  upon  him  that 
caused  his  blood  to  boil,  and  he  made  matters 
worse  by  resenting  them  on  the  spot,  the  result 
being  that  he  did  more  police  duty  than  any 
other  man  in  camp.  Time  and  again  he 
sought  an  interview  with  the  commandant, 
intending  to  complain  of  his  treatment  and 
ask  when  he  might  look  for  his  release,  but 
he  never  saw  the  general  except  from  a  dis- 
tance, and  then  was  not  permitted  to  approach 
him.  All  this  while  his  father,  who  visited 
him  at  irregular  intervals,  bringing  news  from 
the  outside  world,  was  doing  his  best ;  but 
there  were  so  many  difficulties  in  his  way,  and 
so  much  red  tape  to  be  gone  through,  that  he 
found  himself  balked  at  every  point,  and  it  is 


lambeet's  signal-fiee.  31 

a  wonder  lie  was  not  tempted  to  give  it  up  as 
a  task  beyond  his  powers. 

"You  see  Roach's  books  show  that  I  claimed 
exemption  for  Larkin,  and  I'm  afraid  that's 
against  us,"  he  said  to  Tom  one  day,  after 
talking  the  matter  over  with  General  Ruggles. 

"But  you  have  as  much  right  to  change 
your  mind  as  other  folks,  I  sux)pose,"  rei^lied 
Tom. 

"  Of  course  I  have,  but  that  isn't  the  point. 
If  Larkin  were  here  to  take  your  place  in  camp 
the  work  might  be  easier  ;  but  you  see  he  isn't. 
He  has  skipped." 

"  Skipped  where  ? " 

"Out  in  the  woods,  to  keep  company  with 
Lambert  and  Moseley,  I  suppose.  And  when 
he  went  he  left  word  with  some  of  the  neigh- 
bors that  if  anything  happened  to  my  build- 
ings during  the  next  few  weeks,  I  might  thank 
him  for  it.  He  put  out  as  soon  as  I  told  him 
that  I  couldn't  pay  the  beef  and  bacon  the 
government  demanded  as  the  price  of  his 
exemption." 

"Did  you  tell  Major  Morgan  that  you 
wouldn't  pay  it?" 


32  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TEADER. 

"Certainly,  and  I  told  General  Rnggles  so; 
but  that  didn't  scare  them  at  all.  If  they  want 
beef  and  bacon  they'll  just  take  it." 

"Well,  now,  if  that  isn't  a  pretty  way  for 
a  common  overseer  to  treat  a  gentleman  I 
wouldn't  say  so,"  declared  Tom,  who  really 
thought  that  Larkin  ought  to  have  stayed 
at  home  and  been  conscripted  in  his  place. 
"What  difference  does  one  man  make  in  the 
size  of  an  army,  anyway  ?  The  general  could 
let  me  go  as  well  as  not." 
.  "But  he  won't,  unless  certain  forms  are  com- 
plied with.  Be  as  patient  as  you  can,  and  re- 
member that  I  shairieave  no  stone  unturned." 

"Get  an  honorable  discharge  while  you  are 
about  it,  so  that  I  shall  not  be  called  upon  to 
go  through  with  this  performance  a  second 
time,"  said  Tom. 

It  is  true  that  a  single  recruit  made  no  great 
difference  in  the  strength  of  an  army,  but  for 
some  reason  that  no  one  but  General  Rnggles 
could  have  explained  it  made  all  the  difference 
in  the  world  so  far  as  Tom  Randolph's  release 
from  military  duty  was  concerned.  One  day, 
about  six  weeks  after  the  conversation  above 


Lambert's  signal-fire.  33 

recorded,  Mr.  Randolph  walked  into  camp  and 
told  Tom  that  he  was  a  free  man — or  rather 
that  he  would  be  in  a  few  hours,  for  Larkin  had 
been  captured  by  Major  Morgan's  scouts,  and 
was  now  on  his  way  to  camp  to  take  Tom's 
place. 

"And  am  I  to  have  an  honorable  dis- 
charge ?  "  inquired  Tom,  who  was  so  overjoyed 
that  he  could  hardly  speak. 

"  No  ;  and  I  was  foolish  to  ask  for  it,"  said 
his  father  in  disgust.  "The  general  laughed 
in  my  face  and  said  you  hadn't  done  anything 
worthy  of  it.  Don't  say  a  word  about  it,  but 
thank  your  lucky  stars  that  you  have  escaped 
being  ordered  to  the  front." 

When  the  man  Larkin  and  a  few  other  con- 
scripts were  brought  in  under  guard,  Tom 
Randolph  was  standing  as  near  the  big  gate  as 
the  camp  regulations  would  allow  him  to  get, 
waiting  im^Datiently  for  somebody  to  come  out 
of  the  commandant's  office  and  tell  him  he 
could  go  home.  He  was  mean  enough  to  try 
to  attract  Larkin' s  attention  when  the  latter 
tramped  wearily  into  the  stockade,  but  the 
man  was  so  wrapx^ed  up  in  his  troubles  that  he 


34  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

could  hardly  have  recognized  his  best  friend,  if 
he  had  had  one  among  the  curious  crowd  that 
was  gathered  about  the  gate.  Tom  was  a  little 
disappointed,  but  quickly  dismissed  Larkin 
from  his  mind  when  he  saw  his  father  ap- 
proaching with  an  expression  on  his  face  that 
was  full  of  good  news. 

"Come  right  along,"  said  he.  "It's  all 
settled  now.  There  stands  the  officer  who 
has  orders  to  pass  us  out." 

"  So  the  general  has  consented  to  do  me 
justice  at  last,  has  he?"  exclaimed  Tom,  Avho 
was  not  half  as  grateful  as  he  ought  to  have 
been.  "  And  he  kept  me  here  all  these  weary 
days  and  allowed  me  to  be  insulted  and 
abused  on  account  of  that  man  Larkin,  did  he  ? 
Thank  him  for  nothing.  But  Til  fix  some 
others  who  are  as  much  to  blame  for  my  being 
here  as  General  Ruggles  is.  I  haven' t  wasted 
all  my  time  since  I  have  been  in  jail,  I  tell  you." 

"I  brought  a  mule  for  you  to  ride,"  con- 
tinued his  father.  "But  don't  you  think  we 
had  better  bunk  with  the  guard  to-night  ?  It 
will  be  as  dark  as  a  pocket  in  an  hour,  and 
besides  it  is  going  to  rain." 


Lambert's  signal-fire.  35 

"I  don't  care  if  it  rains  pitchforks.  I'll 
face  them  rather  than  remain  in  this  dreary- 
hole  a  moment  longer,"  declared  the  liberated 
conscript.  "And  I  am  not  going  to  the  bar- 
racks after  my  clothes  or  blankets.  I  will 
them  to  the  first  man  who  can  put  his  hands 
on  them." 

Tom  reached  home  in  due  time  in  spite  of 
the  rain  and  other  discomforts  that  attended 
him  on  his  journey,  and  it  is  scarcely  neces- 
sary to  say  that  his  mother  welcomed  him  as 
one  risen  from  the  dead.  Her  husband  had  told 
her  doleful  stories  of  Tom's  life  in  camp,  and  she 
was  afraid  that  he  would  sink  under  his  many 
hardships  before  his  release  could  be  effected. 
But  Tom  was  not  as  badly  off  as  he  pretended 
to  be.  A  few  days'  rest  made  him  as  uneasy 
and  full  of  meanness  as  he  had  ever  been  in 
his  life  ;  but  it  is  fair  to  say  that  his  uneasi- 
ness was  due  to  an  unaccountable  delay  in  the 
carrying  out  of  a  certain  little  programme 
which  he  had  arranged  while  living  in  the 
stockade.  This  was  what  he  meant  when  he 
told  his  father  that  he  had  not  wasted  his 
time  since  he  had  been  in  jail. 


36  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

During  the  montli  of  September  it  became 
known  to  the  guards  and  conscripts  at  Camp 
Pinckney  that  a  meeting  of  cotton  and  tobacco 
planters  had  been  held  in  Richmond  "to  con- 
sider the  expediency  of  the  purchase  by  the 
Confederacy,  or  of  a  voluntary  destruction  of 
Mie  entire  cotton  and  tobacco  crop,"  to  keep  it 
from  falling  into  the  hands  of  the  Union 
forces.  It  is  hard  to  tell  why  the  news  was  so 
long  in  coming  down  to  Louisiana,  for  the 
meeting,  which  was  described  as  "one  of  the 
largest,  wealthiest,  and  most  intelligent  that 
had  ever  assembled  in  the  city,"  was  held  as 
early  as  February.  Among  the  other  resolu- 
tions acted  upon  by  this  patriotic  assemblage 
was  one  calling  upon  the  Southern  peoj)le  to 
destroy  all  their  property  in  advance  of  the 
invading  armies,  even  to  their  homes,  so  that 
the  conquest  of  the  United  States  should  be 
a  barren  one.  Of  course  this  resolution  met 
the  hearty  approval  of  those  of  the  Camp 
Pinckney  guards  and  conscripts  who  had  no 
property  worth  speaking  of,  and  some  of  them 
declared  that  if  General  Ruggles  would  let 
them    have  their  own  way  for    twenty-four 


LAMBERT'S   SIGN^AL-FIRE.  37 

hours  they  would  destroy  thousands  of  bales 
of  cotton  which  the  owners  would  never  burn 
themselves  so  long  as  they  saw  a  prospect  of 
selling  them  to  the  Yankees.  This  set  Tom 
Randolph  to  thinking,  and  with  the  aid  of 
some  of  the  Pearl  River  Home  Guards  who 
were  still  on  duty  at  the  camp,  he  made  up 
a  nice  little  plan  to  revenge  himself  on  several 
of  the  Mooreville  people  who  had  incurred  his 
enmity.  It  might  have  been  successful,  too, 
if  Tom  had  not  allowed  his  unruly  tongue  to 
upset  it.  As  soon  as  he  reached  home  he 
began  waiting  and  watching  for  some  signs  of 
activity  on  the  part  of  the  Pearl  River  vaga- 
bonds, but  up  to  this  time  the  clouds  that 
hung  over  the  swamp,  and  which  he  watched 
every  night  with  anxious  eyes,  had  not  been 
lighted  by  any  signal-fires. 

The  life  that  Tom  Randolph  now  led  was 
dreary  and  monotonous  in  the  extreme  ;  no 
healthy  boy  could  have  endured  it  for  a  week. 
Did  he  take  Larkin's  place  as  overseer  and  do 
his  work  ?  Well,  hardly ;  and  he  never  had 
any  intention  of  doing  it.  The  field-hands  did 
the  work  as  well  as  the  overseeing,  and  Tom 


38  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

spent  his  time  in  loafing  or  in  riding  about  the 
country  on  a  bare-back  mule.  It  is  true  that 
Major  Morgan's  "drag-net"  had  not  cleared 
the  neighborhood  of  everyone  who  was  subject 
to  military  duty,  for  a  few  of  the  desperate 
ones,  like  Lambert  and  Moseley,  had  taken  to 
the  woods,  and  a  few  others  had  joined  the 
Yankees  in  Baton  Rouge,  where  they  were 
safe  from  pursuit ;  but  it  had  caught  the  most 
of  the  able-bodied  men  and  boys  of  Tom's 
acquaintance,  and  now  he  found  himself 
almost  alone.  He  saw  Rodney  and  Ned  now 
and  then,  but  never  sjjoke  to  them  if  he  could 
he]p  it,  or  visited  them  on  their  plantations ; 
for  since  they,  with  Mrs.  Griffin's  aid,  kept 
him  from  being  sent  to  a  Northern  prison,  he 
disliked  them  more  than  he  did  before.  He 
had  never  got  over  being  surprised  at  Mr. 
Gray's  action  in  standing  between  Ned  and 
the  conscript  officer,  while  he  permitted  the 
other  telegraph  operator,  Drummond,  to  take 
his  chances.  Mr.  Gray  must  be  Union  at 
heart  or  else  he  would  not  have  done  that ; 
and  if  he  was  Union  he  ought  to  be  driven  out 
of  the  country.     Tom  found  a  world  of  conso- 


Lambert's  signal-fire.  39 

lation  in  tlie  reflection  that  lie  would  soon  be 
even  with  him. 

It  was  while  the  returned  conscript  was  tak- 
ing his  usual  morning  ride  on  his  mule,  with  a 
gunny-sack  for  a  saddle,  that  he  met  his  old 
first  lieutenant,  as  described  at  the  beginning 
of  the  last  chapter.  He  knew  that  the  man  was 
living  in  the  woods,  otherwise  he  would  have 
had  him  for  company  at  Camp  Pinckney,  and 
he  was  surprised  to  find  him  riding  along  a 
]3ublic  road  in  broad  daylight.  Lambert  was 
also  mounted  on  a  mule,  the  property  of  his 
late  employer,  which  he  had  appropriated  to 
his  own  use  without  troubling  himself  to  ask 
permission.  He  remembered  that  Tom  had 
once  drawn  a  sword  upon  him,  and  flattered 
himself  that  in  Camp  Pinckney  his  tyrannical 
captain  was  being  well  paid  for  that  and  other 
indignities  he  had  put  upon  his  Home  Guards  ; 
consequently  he  was  not  a  little  astonished  and 
vexed  to  find  him  breathing  the  air  of  freedom 
on  this  particular  morning. 

"How  did  you  manage  to  get  away  from 
them  fellers,  anyhow?"  inquired  Lambert, 
nodding  in  the  direction  of  the  camp. 


40  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

"I  liave  influence  with  the  governor,"  re- 
plied Tom  loftily.  "  I  did  not  want  to  stay, 
and  consequently  I  didn't." 

"Afeared  of  the  Yanks,  was  youl"  con- 
tinued Lambert  with  something  like  a  sneer. 

"No  more  afraid  than  yourself.  You  took 
to  your  heels  and  are  in  danger  every  moment 
of  being  caught  and  sent  to  camp,  while  I  faced 
the  music  at  once  and  will  never  have  to  do  it 
again.  I  am  discharged  from  military  service 
for  all  time  to  come." 

"Well,  by  gum!  I  won't  do  none,"  said 
Lambert  fiercely ;  and  Tom  noticed  iliat  every 
time  he  spoke  he  looked  behind  and  on  both 
sides  as  if  he  were  in  constant  fear  that  Major 
Morgan's  men  might  steal  a  march  upon  him. 
"  I  say  let  them  that  brung  the  war  on  do  the 
fightin'.  I  didn't  have  no  hand  in  it,  an' 
nuther  am  I  goin'  to  holp  'em  out.  Yes,  I'm 
livin'  in  the  woods  now,  me  an' — an'  some 
other  fellers  ;  but  I  have  to  come  out  once  in  a 
while  to  get  grub  an'  things,  you  know." 

"Then  why  don't  you  come  at  night?" 
asked  Tom. 

"  Kase  it  suits  me  better  to  come  in  the  day- 


Lambert's  signal-fire.  41 

time.  I  aint  a-skeared.  There's  plenty  kiver 
liandy." 

"But  if  you  dismount  and  take  to  your 
heels  you'll  lose  your  mule." 

"  Who  keers  ?  'Tain't  my  mu-el,  an'  if  they 
take  him  I  can  easy  get  another.  What  you 
drivin'  at  now  ?  " 

"  I  am  my  father's  overseer." 

"Shucks!  You  couldn't  tell .  to  save  your 
life  if  a  corn  row  was  laid  off  straight  or  not." 

"No  matter  for  that,"  said  Tom  sharply. 
"  As  long  as  I  hold  the  position  I  can  live  at 
home  and  show  myself  openly  ;  and  that's 
more  than  you  can  do.  Have  you  seen  that 
converted  Confederate  and  his  Yankee  friend 
lately?" 

"  Who's  them  ? "  inquired  Lambert. 

"Why,  Ned  Griffin  and  Rodney  Gray." 

"Oh,  yes;  I  see  'em  every  day  'most. 
They're  livin'  down  there  snug  as  you  please, 
an'  as  often  as  I " 

"Go  on,"  said  Tom,  when  the  man  paused 
suddenly.     "  As  often  as  you  what  ? " 

"As  often  as  I  want  to  see  'em  I  see  'em," 
added  Lambert. 


42  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

"That  isn't  what  you  were  about  to  say  at 
first,"  replied  Tom.  "I  hope  you  are  not  a 
friend  of  theirs?" 

"  Lool?:  a-here,  cap'n,  wasn't  I  first  lef tenant 
of  the  Home  Guards  ? ' ' 

"You  were,  and  a  very  good  officer  you 
made,  except  when  you  took  it  upon  yourself 
to  act  without  waiting  for  orders  from  me  ; 
and  then  you  always  brought  yourself  into 
trouble.     Can  you  be  trusted?" 

"If  I  can't,  what's  the  reason  I  was  'lected 
to  that  office?"  asked  Lambert  in  reply. 
"  What  do  you  want  of  me  ?  " 

"  The  members  of  the  Randolph  family  are 
not  quite  as  poor  as  some  people  seem  to  think, 
I  want  you  to  understand,"  said  Tom  in  a 
mysterious  whisper.  "  We  have  several  little 
articles  hidden  away  that  our  neighbors  know 
nothing  about,  and  next  week  w^e  shall  have 
some  store  tea  and  coffee  and  salt  to  hand 
around  to  those  who  need  them.  Your  shoes 
are  full  of  holes,  too.  You  ought  to  have  a 
new  pair." 

If  Lambert  had  given  utterance  to  the 
thoughts  that  were    in    his   mind,  he  would 


LAMBETIT  S   SIGNAL-FIRE.  43 

have  said  that  his  old  commander  would  miss 
it  if  he  hoped  to  bribe  him  in  this  way. 
There  were  few  people  in  the  settlement  who 
did  not  stand  in  need  of  the  articles  Tom 
mentioned,  but  Lambert  knew  where  he  could 
get  them  for  the  asking.  Still  he  wanted  to 
know  what  Tom  wished  him  to  do,  and  said 
so. 

"You  fought  the  conscript  officers  off  en  me 
long's  as  you  could,  an'  I  aint  likely  to  dis- 
remember  it,"  he  replied. 

"  I  kejDt  you  out  of  the  army  for  more  than  a 
year,  and  now  is  the  time  for  you  to  pay  me 
for  it,"  replied  Tom  impressively.  "Now 
listen  while  I  tell  you  something.  You  know 
that  our  government  has  ordered  every  planter 
who  owns  cotton  to  burn  it  so  that  it  will  not 
fall  into  the  hands  of  the  Yankees,  don't 
you?" 

"No!''  answered  Lambert.  He  was  sur- 
prised, for  this  was  news  to  him  ;  but  he  saw 
what  Tom  was  trying  to  get  at. 

"  Well,  it  is  the  truth,  and  those  who  do  not 
comply  with  the  order  will  be  punished  in  some 
way,  and  their  property  destroyed  by  our  own 


44  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

soldiers.  N^ow  there's  old  man  Gray  ;  lie  has 
cotton." 

"And  he  won't  never  burn  it,"  exclaimed 
Lambert. 

"That's  the  idea  exactly.  He'd  rather  sell 
it  to  the  Yankees  for  sixty  cents  a  pound ; 
and  so  far  as  I  can  see  there  is  nothing  to 
hinder  him  from  doing  it." 

"Less'n  some  of  our  fellers  slip  up  an' 
burn  it  for  him,"  put  in  Lambert. 

"You've  hit  it  again,"  exclaimed  Tom,  who 
told  himself  that  he  wasn't  going  to  have  any 
trouble  at  all  in  bringing  the  man  to  do  the 
work  he  had  suddenly  laid  out  for  him.  "He 
can  sell  his  cotton  if  nobody  stops  him,  but  my 
father  can't  sell  his  because  he  is  known  to  be 
a  loyal  Confederate.  Do  you  think  that's  fair 
or  right?" 

' '  I  know  it  aint, ' '  answered  Lambert.  ' '  Gray 
is  Union,  and  oughter  be  sent  amongst  the 
Yanks  where  he  b' longs  ;  but  your  paw  is  Con- 
fedrit  and  so  am  I.  Do  you  want  me  to  tech 
off  that  cotton  ?  " 

"Well,  no;  not  exactly  that.  You  know 
where  it  is,  I  suppose  ? " 


Lambert's  signal-fire.  45 

"There  aint  much  of  anything  in  the  woods 
in  this  country  that  I  don' t  know  something 
about,"  said  Lambert  Avith  a  grin.  "  I  reckon 
I  might  find  it  if  I  took  a  notion." 

"  That  is  what  I  thought,  and  now  I  come  to 
the  point.  While  I  was  in  camp  I  learned  that 
a  squad  of  our  soldiers  is  coming  here  some 
day  to  look  after  the  very  cotton  we  are  talk- 
ing about,"  said  Tom,  who  did  not  think  it 
would  be  just  the  thing  to  say  that  he  had  pro- 
posed the  expedition  himself,  and  accurately 
described  the  bayoa  in  which  Mr.  Gray's  four 
hundred  bales  could  be  found.  "  Now  if  you 
happen  to  see  that  squad  while  you  are  riding 
about  the  country " 

"I'll  take  leg-bail  mighty  sudden,  I  bet 
you,"  interrupted  Lambert. 

"  Without  offering  to  show  them  where  the 
cotton  is  hidden?"  cried  Tom. 

"  You  bet !  I  aint  got  no  call  to  go  iDhilan- 
derin'  about  the  woods  with  a  passel  of  sol- 
diers, an'  if  you  was  the  friend  you  pertend  to 
be  you  wouldn't  ask  sicli  a  thing  of  me." 

"  Why,  man  alive,  they  are  Home  Guards," 
began  Tom. 


46  SAILOK  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

"Then  I  wouldn't  trust  none  of  'em  as  fur 
as  I  could  sling  a  church  house,"  replied 
Lambert. 

"And  besides,  they  don't  know  that  you 
have  been  conscripted,  for  they  belong  to 
the  Pearl  River  bottoms,  miles  away  from 
here." 

"No  odds  ;  Major  Morgan's  men  can  give  me 
all  the  dodgin'  I  want  to  do,  an'  if  them  Pearl 
River  fellers  don't  find  that  cotton  till  I  show 
it  to  'em  they'll  never  find  it.  I  jest  aint 
goin'  to  run  no  fule  chances  on  bein'  tooken  to 
that  camx)." 

Tom  Randolph  wished  now  that  he  hadn't 
broached  the  subject  to  Lambert  at  all,  for 
what  assurance  had  he  that  the  man,  whom  he 
knew  to  be  vindictive  and  untrustworthy, 
would  not  go  straight  to  Mr.  Gray  and  tell 
him  all  about  it? 

"I  thought  you  were  a  friend  of  mine,  but 
since  you  are  not  it's  all  right,"  said  Tom,  in- 
timating by  a  wave  of  his  hand  that  Lambert's 
refusal  was  a  matter  of  no  moment  whatever. 
"But  come  with  me  to  the  house,  and  let  me 
see  if  I  can't  find  something  for  you."     And  as 


LAMBERT  S   SIGNAL-FIRE.  47 

he  spoke  he  looked  down  at  the  man's  broken 
shoes  and  bare,  sunbrowned  ankles. 

"Shucks!"  exclaimed  Lambert.  "I  don't 
need  to  go  beggin'  shoes  an'  stockin's  of 
nobody ;  an'  as  for  the  salt  an'  store  tea  that 
you've  been  talkin'  about,  I  have  them  in  the 
woods  every  day," 

"  I  don't  believe  it,"  said  Tom  bluntly. 

"  It  don't  make  no  odds  to  me  whether  you 
do  or  not,  but  it's  a  fact." 

"Where  do  you  get  them?  You  haven't 
the  cheek  to  go  to  Baton  Rouge,  after  the  part 
you  played  in  having  the  place  bombarded  by 
the  Union  fleet.  You  wouldn't  dare  show 
your  face  there,  and  I  don't  believe  you  have 
any  friends  to  bring  goods  through  the  lines 
for  you.  I  haven't  forgotten  that  old  man 
Gray  wanted  that  mob  to  thrash  me  as  if  I 
were  a  nigger,  and  I  hope  you  remember  that 
he  was  strongly  in  favor  of  hanging  you.  Ned 
GrifBn  warned  you,  and  you  Jumped  out  of 
bed  and  ran  for  your  life." 

"Do  you  reckon  I've  disremembered  all  the 
things  that  happened  that  night?"  said  Lam- 
bert with  a  scowl.      "I  aint,  I  bet  you,   an' 


48  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER.  '' 

inebbe  you'll  find  it  out  some  of  those  days. 
I  aint  nobody's  coward,  an'  I  dast  do  a  good 
many  things  when  I  make  up  my  mind  to  it. 
You  jest  watch,  an'  you'll  see  fire  some  of 
those  nights.  But  when  you  see  it  you  may 
know  that  no  Pearl  River  Home  Guards  didn't 
have  a  hand  in  it." 

"Will  you  do  it  yourself?"  said  Tom  glee- 
fully. 

"I  aint  a-sayin'  who'll  do  it,  but  it  '11  be 
done.  I've  been  mistreated  an'  used  like  a 
dog  all  along  of  this  war,  an'  I'm  a-goin'  to 
even  uj)  with  somebody  to  pay  for  it." 

"And  when  the  work  is  done  come  to  my 
house;  ask  for  anything  I've  got  and  I  will 
give  it  to  you.  Where  are  you  going  now  ?" 
asked  Tom,  as  the  man  began  digging  his  heels 
into  his  mule's  sides  and  tugging  at  one  of  the 
reins  in  the  effort  to  turn  the  beast  around. 

"I  reckon  I'd  best  be  joggin'  along  back. 
I've  been  out  from  under  kiver  'most  long 
enough.  You  watch  out  an'  you'll  see  that 
fire;  that's  every  word  I've  got  to  say  about 
it." 

The  two  seioarated  and  rode  off  in  different 


lambeet's  signal-fire.  49 

directions — the  one  in  a  brown  study,  and  the 
other  shaking  his  head  and  muttering  angry 
words  to  himself.  Lambert  was  very  well 
satisfied  with  the  result  of  the  interview,  for  it 
had  suggested  something  to  him  that  he  never 
would  have  thought  of  himself,  but  Tom  could 
not  drive  away  the  thought  that  perhaps  it 
would  have  been  better  for  him  if  he  had 
turned  his  mule's  head  down  the  road  instead 
of  up  when  he  left  his  father's  gate  that 
morning. 

"I  know  that  Lambert  was  awfully  angry  at 
me  because  I  shook  my  sword  in  his  face,  but 
what  else  could  I  do  when  he  acted  as  if  he 
were  about  to  rush  up  the  steps  and  lay  violent 
hands  upon  me  in  mother's  presence  ?"  solilo- 
quized Tom.  "Perhaps  I  talked  too  much 
and  at  the  wrong  time  ;  but  if  Lambert  plays 
me  false,  I'll  put  every  Yankee  scouting  party 
that  comes  along  on  his  trail.  I'll  keep  a 
bright  lookout  for  that  fire,  as  he  told  me,  but 
I  shall  not  draw  an  easy  breath  until  I  see  it. 
Then  I  shall  feel  safe,  for  of  course  if  he  fires 
that  cotton  he  will  not  tell  on  himself." 

Tom  went  up  to  his  room  at  his  usual  hour 
4 


50  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

for  retiring,  but  instead  of  going  to  bed  he 
drew  a  big  rocking-cliair  in  front  of  a  window 
that  looked  out  toward  Rodney  Gray's  planta- 
tion, and  seated  himself  in  it  to  watch  for 
Lambert's  signal  fire — the  light  on  the  clouds 
which  would  tell  him  that  one  of  Mooreville's 
most  respected  citizens  was  being  punished 
because  he,  Tom  Randolph,  didn't  like  him. 
He  had  no  assurance  from  Lambert  that  he 
would  see  the  blaze  that  night,  but  he  hoped 
he  would,  and  he  resolved  that  he  would  sit 
at  that  window  for  six  months,  if  necessary, 
rather  than  miss  the  sight  and  the  gratifi- 
cation  it   would   afford   him. 

"Lambert's  face  grew  as  black  as  a  thunder- 
cloud when  I  reminded  him  that  Mr.  Gray  was 
one  of  the  mob  who  wanted  to  hang  him  for 
bringing  about  the  bombardment  of  Baton 
Rouge,"  thought  Tom,  "and  I  know  he  will 
have  revenge  for  that  if  he  gets  half  a  chance." 

Tom  had  not  yet  made  up  for  the  sleep  he 
lost  at  Camp  Pinckney,  and  in  less  than  half 
an  hour  he  was  slumbering  heavily.  It  was 
long  after  midnight  when  he  awoke  with  a 
start  and  a  feeling  that  there  was  something 


Lambert's  signal-fire.  51 

unusual  going  on.  His  eyes  rested  on  the 
window  when  they  were  opened,  and  the  sight 
he  saw  through  the  panes  sent  a  thrill  all 
through  him  and  brought  him  to  his  feet  in  an 
instant.  The  glare  on  the  sky  told  him  there 
was  a  fire  raging  somewhere  in  the  depths  of 
the  forest,  and  that  it  must  be  a  big  one,  for 
the  whole  heavens  in  that  direction  were 
illuminated  by  it. 

"He's  done  it;  as  sure  as  the  world  he's 
done  it,"  said  Tom,  who  was  highly  excited. 
"It's  all  the  proof  I  want  that  I  am  not  so 
much  of  a  nobody  as  some  people  make  me 
out  to  be.  But  I  had  no  idea  that  baled  cotton 
would  give  out  such  a  blaze  as  that.  How- 
ever, four  liundred  bales,  if  they  were  all 
in  one  place,  would  make  a  pretty  good-sized 
pile." 

Tom's  first  impulse  was  to  rush  downstairs 
and  tell  his  mother  the  good  news,  but  he  was 
afraid  she  might  not  keep  it  to  herself.  She 
would  be  likely  to  call  his  father's  attention  to 
the  light  in  the  sky,  and  that  was  a  thing  Tom 
did  not  care  to  have  her  do.  Mr.  Randolph 
had  changed  wonderfully  of  late — ever  since 


62  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

he  missed  salt  from  his  table  and  learned  that 
cotton  was  worth  sixty  cents  a  pound  in 
Northern  markets — and  Tom  had  not  failed 
to  notice  it.  He  wasn't  half  as  good  a  Con- 
federate as  he  used  to  be,  and  even  showed 
a  desire  to  be  friendly  with  Mr.  Gray  and 
Rodney,  who  belonged  to  that  unpatriotic 
class  of  planters  spoken  of  by  the  Southern 
historian  who  "  were  known  to  buy  every 
article  of  their  consumption  in  Yankee  mar- 
kets," that  is  to  say,  in  Baton  Rouge.  Tliis 
being  the  case  Tom  did  not  go  downstairs  and 
tell  what  was  going  on  in  the  swamp  for  fear 
his  father  might  have  something  sharp  and 
unpleasant  to  say  about  it.  He  sat  in  his 
chair  and  watched  the  light  until  it  began  to 
fade  away  before  the  stronger  light  of  the  ris- 
ing sun,  and  then  went  to  bed,  happy  in  the 
reflection  that  there  was  one  traitor  in  the 
neighborhood  who  would  not  make  a  fortune 
out  of  the  unholy  war  that  had  been  forced 
upon  the  South  by  Lincoln's  hirelings. 

It  was  almost  noon  when  he  opened  his  eyes 
again,  and  the  first  move  he  made  was  for  the 
window  that  looked  toward  the  swamp  that 


Lambert's  sigttal-fire.  53 

inclosed  Rodney  Gray's  plantation  on  three 
sides.  Of  course  all  signs  of  tlie  conflagration 
had  long  since  disappeared,  but  it  had  left 
gloom  and  anxiety  in  the  house  below,  as  Tom 
found  when  he  went  down  to  eat  the  late 
breakfast  that  had  been  kept  warm  for  him. 
His  mother  seemed  to  have  grown  a  dozen 
years  older  since  he  last  saw  her. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  he  demanded. 
"  Your  face  is  as  long  as  my  arm." 

"  O  Tommy,  did  yon  see  it  last  night  ? "  she 
asked  in  reply. 

"See  what  last  night?"  faltered  Tom,  who 
began  to  have  a  faint  suspicion  that  it  would 
be  a  wise  thing  for  him  to  make  his  mother 
believe,  if  he  could,  that  he  had  slept  soundly 
through  it  all. 

"  Why,  the  fire.  Someone's  cotton  has  been 
destroyed.  Mr.  Walker,  who  lives  on  the 
plantation  below,  saw  the  light  and  came  up 
this  morning  and  told  your  father  about  it, 
and  together  they  have  gone  to  the  swamiD  to 
look  into  the  matter." 

"Oh!  the  swamp,"  repeated  Tom  with  a 
chuckle.     "That's  all  right,  and  father  need 


54  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

not  have  troubled  liimself  to  ride  so  far  with- 
out his  breakfast.  Please  tell  the  girl  to  give 
me  a  bite  of  something.  Old  man  Gray  has 
some  cotton  in  there,  I  believe." 

"But,  my  dear,  we  have  two  hundred  bales 
in  there,  too." 

The  tone  in  which  the  words  were  uttered 
struck  Tom  dumb  and  motionless  for  a  moment. 
Then  he  groped  blindly  for  the  nearest  chair 
and  dropped  into  it.  It  Avas  true  that  his 
father  had  a  fortune  hidden  not  more  than 
half  a  mile  from  the  bayou  in  which  Mr.  Gray's 
four  hundred  bales  were  concealed,  and  up  to 
that  moment  he  had  forgotten  all  about  it.  It 
was  also  true  that  all  the  cotton  that  had  been 
run  into  the  swamp  was  plainly  marked  with 
the  initials  of  the  owners'  names,  but  Tom 
didn't  know  whether  Lambert  could  read  or 
not.  lie  had  never  thought  to  ask  him,  and 
now  he  blamed  himself  for  his  stupidity.  If 
it  was  the  Pearl  River  vagabonds,  and  not 
Lambert,  who  applied  the  torch,  there  was  the 
same  trouble  to  be  feared.  Tom  took  particu- 
lar pains  to  tell  the  men  with  whom  he  con- 
spired to   destroy  Mr.  Gray's   property   that 


Lambert's  signal-fire.  55 

every  bale  of  it  was  marked  R.  W.  G.,  but  lie 
now  remembered,  with  a  sinking  at  liis  heart 
that  almost  drove  him  crazy,  that  these  Home 
Guards  were  as  ignorant  as  the  mules  and 
horses  they  rode  on  their  i^lundering  expedi- 
tions, and  perhaps  there  was  not  one  among 
them  who  knew  one  letter  from  another.  The 
fear  that  the  wrong  pile  might  have  been 
committed  to  the  flames  threw  him  into  a  ter- 
rible state  of  mind. 

"I  don't  wonder  that  yon  are  sadly 
troubled,"  said  his  mother,  in  a  sympathiz- 
ing tone.  "  But  I  suppose  it  is  about  what  we 
can  look  for  in  times  like  these.  I  never  did 
expect  to  save  that  cotton.  I  was  sure  that  if 
the  Yankees  did  not  steal  it  the  rebels  would 
destroy  it." 

(Mrs.  Randolph  called  them  "rebels"  now. 
A  few  months  before  she  would  have  spoken 
of  them  as  ''Confederates"  or  "our  own 
brave  soldiers.") 

"Take  it  away,"  yelled  Tom,  addressing  the 
girl,  who  just  then  brought  his  breakfast  in  from 
the  kitchen.  "I  don't  want  anything  to  eat. 
I  never  want  anything  more  as  long  as  I  live. 


56  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

How  many  thousand  dollars  was  that  cotton 
worth?" 

"You'll  fret  yourself  sick  if  you  give  way 
to  your  feelings  like  this,"  protested  his 
mother.  "We  are  not  sure  that  anyone  has 
troubled  our  cotton  ;  we  only  fear  it." 

"It  would  be  on  a  par  with  the  luck  that  has 
attended  me  all  through  this  miserable  war  if 
every  pound  of  it  was  gone  up  in  smoke,"  said 
Tom  in  a  discouraged  voice.  "It's  some  con- 
solation to  know  that  we  are  all  poor  together, 
for  of  course  the  men  who  knew  where  to  find 
our  cotton  knew  where  to  find  Gray's  and 
Walker's  also." 

With  these  words  Tom  snatched  his  hat 
from  the  rack  in  the  hall,  and  went  down  the 
steps  and  out  to  the  gate  to  watch  for  his 
father's  return.  The  latter  was  a  long  time 
coming,  and  his  face  wore  so  dejected  a  look 
Avhen  he  rode  up  and  passed  into  the  yard,  that 
Tom  could  not  find  it  in  his  heart  to  speak  to 
him.  He  simply  turned  about  and  went  into 
the  house  to  wait,  Avitli  as  much  fortitude  as 
he  could  command,  for  his  father  to  come  in 
and  tell  the  terrible  news  that  was  so  plainly 


Lambert's  signal-fire.  57 

written  on  bis  face.  His  wife,  who  met  him  at 
the  door,  did  not  say  a  word  until  he  had 
seated  himself  in  the  chair  he  usually  occu- 
pied by  the  front  window,  and  then  she  whis- 
pered the  question : 

"  Is  it  all  gone,  George  ?  " 

"  Every  bale,"  replied  Mr.  Randolph  with  a 
groan.  "  In  the  first  place,  nearly  three  hun- 
dred thousand  dollars'  worth  of  niggers  ran 
away  and  left  us  with  barely  a  handful  to  do 
our  work  for  us,  and  now  the  cotton  I  was 
depending  on  to  start  me  afresh  when  the 
war  ended  has  run  away  too  ;  or  gone  up  in 
the  elements,  which  amounts  to  the  same 
thing." 

"Of  course  Mr.  Gray's  cotton "  stam- 
mered Tom. 

"Wasn't  touched,"  said  Mr.  Randolph,  fin- 
ishing the  sentence  for  him.  "  You  may  be- 
lieve it  or  not,  but  it  is  a  fact  that  our  cotton 
alone  was  destroyed.  Walker  and  I  found  Mr. 
Gray  and  Rodney  and  Griffin  and  a  dozen  or 
so  others  in  the  swamp  when  we  got  there,  and 
they  had  been  trying  to  drag  some  of  my  bales 
out  of  reach  of  the  flames';  but  they  didn't  go 


68  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

there  until  morning,  and  of  course  were  too 
late   to  be  of  any   use." 

"The  cowards!"  exclaimed  Tom  bitterly. 
"  If  they  saw  the  fire  when  it  was  burning,  why 
didn't  they  go  at  once  ? " 

"Would  you  have  done  it?"  replied  his 
father.  "  They  thought  the  fire  had  been  set 
by  soldiers  and  were  afraid  to  go  out  in  the 
dark  ;  but  if  the  soldiers  had  had  a  hand  in  it 
they  would  have  burned  other  cotton.  It  was 
the  work  of  someone  who  has  a  spite  against 
us,  and  he  has  made  beggars  of  us.  I  haven't 
a  dollar  of  good  money,  or  a  thing  that  can  be 
turned  into  money  ;  and  even  if  I  had,  you  and 
your  Home  Guards  have  made  yourselves  so 
obnoxious  to  the  Baton  Rouge  people  that  I 
wouldn't  dare  go  there  to  trade.  Oh,  yes; 
we're  fit  candidates  for  the  poorhouse  if  there 
was  one  in  the  county." 

Tom  Randolph  covered  his  face  with  his 
hands  and  trembled  violently.  He  could  not 
speak,  but  told  himself  that  the  world  would 
not  have  held  half  so  much  trouble  for  him  if 
that  man  Lambert  had  never  been  born  into  it. 


CHAPTER  III. 

MR.    RATfDOLPH   CARRIES  TALES. 

WHEN"  Tom  Randolph  and  the  man  Lam- 
bert brought  their  interview  to  a  close 
and  rode  away  in  different  directions,  as  we 
have  recorded,  the  latter  turned  into  the  first 
lane  he  came  to,  and  finally  disappeared  in  the 
woods.  For  three  or  four  miles  or  more  he 
rode  along  the  fence  that  separated  a  wide 
corn-field  from  the  timber,  passed  in  the  rear  of 
Mr.  Gray's  extensive  home  plantation,  and  at 
last  came  out  into  the  road  again  opposite  the 
house  in  which  Ned  Griffin  and  his  mother  now 
lived.  Having  made  sure  that  there  were  none 
of  Major  Morgan's  men  in  sight  (he  feared 
them  and  the  Baton  Rouge  people  more  than 
he  did  the  boys  in  blue)  Lambert  crossed  the 
road  and  threw  down  the  bars  that  gave 
entrance  into  the  door-yard.  The  noise  aroused 
Ned's  hounds,  whose  sonorous  yelping  quickly 
brought  their  master  to  the  porch. 


60  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

"Oh,  it's  you,  is  it?"  said  Ned,  when  he 
saw  who  his  visitor  was.  "  I  don't  know  how 
to  explain  it,  but  I  have  been  looking  for  you 
all  day.  Have  you  done  anything  for  your 
country  since  I  seen  you  last  ? " 

Ned's  manner  would  have  made  Tom  Ran- 
dolph open  his  eyes,  and  might,  perhaps,  have 
aroused  his  suspicions,  there  was  so  much  un- 
becoming familiarity  in  it.  More  than  that, 
his  words  seemed  to  imply  that  there  was  some 
sort  of  an  understanding  between  him  and  the 
ex-Home  Guard.  The  latter  seated  himself  on 
the  end  of  the  porch,  pulled  his  cob  pipe  from 
his  pocket  and  tapped  his  thumb-nail  with  the 
inverted  bowl  to  show  that  it  was  empty, 
whereupon  Ned  went  into  the  house  and  pres- 
ently came  out  again  with  a  plug  of  navy 
tobacco  in  his  hand.  The  sight  of  it  made 
Lambert's  eyes  glisten. 

"I  aint  seen  the  like  very  often  since  the 
war  come  onto  us,"  said  he,  as  he  proceeded 
to  cut  off  enough  of  the  weed  to  fill  his  pipe  ; 
"an'  this  here  nigger-heel  that  we  uns  have  to 
put  up  with  nowadays  aint  fitten  for  a  white 
man  to  use.     Do  you  know,  I  think  Rodney 


ME.    RANDOLPH   CARKIES   TALES.  61 

Gray  is  jest  one  of  the  smartest  fellers  there  is 
a-goin'  ? ' ' 

"I've  always  thought  and  said  so,"  replied 
Ned.  "  But  what  has  he  done  lately  that  is 
so  very  bright? " 

"  Hirin'  me  to  watch  that  cotton  of  his'n  so 
that  I  could  tell  him  if  I  see  anybody  castin' 
ugly  eyes  at  it,"  said  Lambert,  settling  back 
at  his  ease  on  the  gallery  so  that  he  could 
enjoy  his  smoke  to  the  best  advantage. 
"  When  you  told  me  that  Rodney  would 
take  it  as  a  friendly  act  on  my  part  if  I  would 
do  that  much  for  him,  I  didn't  think  there 
was  the  least  bit  of  use  in  it,  but  now  I  know 
there  is.  I  run  up  agin  somebody  a  while 
ago,  an'  who  do  you  think  it  was  ?  " 

"I'm  sure  I  don't  know,  but  I  hope  it  wasn't 
anyone  who  had  designs  on  that  cotton." 

"It  was  that  Tom  Randolph,"  answered 
Lambert. 

"  You  must  be  dreaming  !  "  exclaimed  Ned. 

"  Them's  the  very  same  words  I  axed  myself 
when  I  first  see  Tom  comin'  t'  wards  me  on  his 
mu-el,  kase  I  couldn't  b'lieve  it  was  him  till  I 
listened  to  him  talk ;  then  I  knowed  it  was 


62  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

Tom,  for  almost  the  first  thing  he  said  was 
mealiness.  He's  made  it  up  with  some  of  the 
Home  Guards  at  Camp  Pinckney." 

"  Gracious !"  cried  Ned,  becoming  fright- 
ened. "They're  the  worst  lot  of  rufl5ans  in 
the  world.     They  shoot  their  prisoners." 

"So  I've  heerd  tell,"  said  Lambert  indiffer- 
ently. "  Well,  them's  the  fine  chaps  that  Tom 
has  made  it  up  with  to  burn  old  man  Gray's 
cotton,  an'  he  wanted  to  know  if  I  would 
sorter  guide  them  to  the  place  where  it  was, 
an'  I  told  him  I  wouldn't,  kase  I  aint  going 
to  take  no  chances  on  bein'  tooken  to  that 
camp.  I'm  scared  of  them  Pearl  River 
chaps." 

"You'd  better  be,  for  they  would  just  as 
soon  shoot  you  as  anybody  else,  simply  to  keep 
their  hands  in.  Now,  how  are  we  going  to 
keep  them  from  finding  that  cotton  ? ' ' 

"That's  the  very  thing  that's  been  a-pes- 
terin'  of  me  ever  since  Tom  spoke  to  me  about 
it,"  answered  Lambert. 

"If  you  don't  act  as  their  guide  they  can 
easily  find  somebody  else  who  will  do  it  rather 
than  be  shot,"  said  Ned  in  an  anxious  tone. 


MR.    EANDOLPII   CARRIES   TALES.  63 

"  I  don't  believe  Rodney  lias  enjoyed  a  niglit's 
sound  sleep  since  he  had  his  first  talk  with 
the  Federal  provost  marshal  at  Baton  Ronge. 
But  he  is  bound  to  save  his  father's  property 
if  he  can,  and  you  must  do  all  in  your  power 
to  help  him." 

"Do  you  remember  what  you  said  on  the 
night  you  rid  up  to  my  door  an'  warned 
me  that  the  citizens  allowed  to  hang  me  for 
what  I  done  down  the  river?"  replied  Lam- 
bert. "You  said  that  old  man  Gray  was  try  in' 
to  talk  'em  out  of  it  by  tellin'  'em  that  if  they 
done  it  they  would  be  sorry  in  the  mornin', 
didn't  you?  Well,  I  don't  forget  a  man  who 
does  me  a  good  turn  any  more'n  I  forget  one 
who  does  me  a  mean  one."  And  when  he  said 
this  he  scowled  fiercely,  for  he  was  thinking  of 
Tom  Randolph. 

"  Well,  have  you  any  plan  in  your  head  ? " 
continued  i}fed. 

"Nary  plan.  I  jest  rid  down  to  get  some 
good  tobacker  an'  to  tell  you  to  warn  Rodney 
to  look  out  for  breakers.  What's  the  reason 
you  don't  want  me  to  go  nigh  his  house  for  a 
few  days  ?" 


64  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

"  That's  my  business — and  Rodney's,"  said 
Ned  shortly. 

'"Taint  mine,"  laughed  Lambert,  "but  if 
you  asked  me  to  make  a  rough  guess " 

"But  I  don't  ask  you  to  make  a  rough 
guess,"  interrupted  Ned.  "  Or  a  smooth  one 
either.  Did  Tom  Randolph  tell  you  how  he 
got  out  of  Camp  Pinckney  ?" 

" a  rough  guess,  I  should  say  that  Rod- 
ney's got  one  of  two  things  in  liidin'  down 
there ;  either  a  deserter  from  our  side,  or  a 
Yankee  pris'ner  that  he  is  waitin'  for  a  chance 
to  send  to  Baton  Rouge.  But  'taint  none  of 
my  business,  an'  I  won't  tell,"  said  Lambert 
with  good-natured  persistence.  And  then  he 
stopped,  for  when  he  looked  up  into  Ned's 
face  he  saw  that  it  had  suddenly  grown  very 
pale.  "I  aint  said  a  word  about  it  to  nobody, 
an'  aint  goin'  to  ;  but  you  tell  Rodney  that 
when  he  wants  friends,  as  most  likely  he  will, 
they'll  be  around.  Me  an'  Moseley  an'  the 
rest  didn't  want  to  go  into  the  army,  an'  we're 
bound  we  won't ;  but  for  all  that  we're  not  the 
cowards  that  some  folks  take  us  to  be." 

"You  have  something  on  your  mind,  and  I 


MR.    RANDOLPH   CARRIES   TALES.  65 

am  sure  of  it,"  said  Ned,  as  the  man  touched 
a  match  to  his  pipe  and  arose  from  his  seat  on 
the  porch.  "  If  you  will  tell  me  what  it  is,  so 
that  I  can  carry  it  to  Rodney,  I'll  give  you  a 
pair  of  shoes  for  yourself  and  Moseley." 

"  Them's  jest  the  things  that  Tom  Randolph 
offered  to  give  me  if  I  would  guide  them  Home 
Guards  to  Mr.  Gray's  cotton,"  said  Lambert 
with  a  grin,  "an'  now  I'm  goin'  to  get 'em  with- 
out goin'  to  all  that  trouble  an'  risk.  Beats 
me  how  Rodney  can  fight  the  Yanks  the  best 
he  knows  how  for  fifteen  months,  an'  then 
turn  square  around  an'  buy  shoes  an'  salt 
an'  things  of  'em.  Looks  to  me  as  though 
the  Yanks  would  'a'  shot  him  the  first  thing 
they  done." 

"  They  are  not  savages,  to  shoot  a  man  after 
he  quits  fighting,"  said  Ned  impatiently.  "  It 
takes  Confederate  Home  Guards  to  do  that. 
What  do  you  say  ?  Do  you  want  the  shoes  or 
not?" 

"Bring  'em  out,  an'  I  will  tell  you  all  I  had 

in  my  head  when  I  rid  into  this  yard,"  was 

the  answer,  and  Ned  turned  about  and  went 

into  the  house.     When  he  returned  he  brought 

5 


66  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

the  shoes,  which  Lambert  received  with  the 
remark  that  he  knew  some  planters  in  the 
neighborhood  who  had  willingly  paid  fifty 
dollars  for  footwear  that  wasn't  half  as 
good. 

"  But  if  they  had  had  greenbacks  instead  of 
rebel  scrip  they  could  have  got  their  shoes  for 
a  good  deal  less,"  replied  Ned.  "  There  isn't 
a  Confederate  in  the  country  loyal  enough  to 
refuse  Yankee  money  when  it  is  offered  to 
him.  Major  Morgan  wouldn't  do  it.  Now, 
what  are  your  plans  ?  " 

"The  only  thoughts  I  had  in  my  head  when 
I  rid  into  the  yard,  was  that  I  would  come 
here  an'  get  a  bit  of  good  tobacker,  an'  tell 
you  an'  Rodney  that  Tom  E-andolph  was  try- 
in'  to  have  your  cotton  burned,"  replied  Lam- 
bert, placing  the  shoes  under  his  arm,  and 
backing  away  as  if  he  feared  Ned  might  try 
to  snatch  them.     "  That's  all,  honest  Injun," 

"And  haven't  you  hit  upon  any  plan  to 
head  those  Home  Guards  off  ?  " 

"  Nary  plan,  kase  they  aint  found  the  cotton 
yet.  When  they  do,  like  as  not  I'll  think  up 
somethin'." 


MR.    RANDOLPH   CARRIES   TALES.  67 

"  Then  it  will  be  too  late  to  save  the  cotton," 
said  Ned  in  disgust.  ''  If  yon  are  going  to  do 
anything,  you  want  to  move  before  they  get 
into  the  swamp." 

"They'll  be  some  cotton  burned,  most 
likely  ;  I  aint  say  in'  there  won't,"  observed 
Lambert,  placing  one  hand  on  his  mule's  neck 
and  vaulting  lightly  upon  his  back.  "But 
you  can  tell  Rodney  that  his  paw's  will  stay 
on  the  ground  as  long  as  anybody's.  That's 
the  onliest  plan  I've  got  in  my  head.  When  I 
get  time  to  think  up  somethin'  else  I'll  let 
you  know." 

Lambert  rode  out  of  the  yard,  stopping  on 
the  way  to  put  up  the  bars  behind  him,  and 
Ned  Griffin  went  in  to  his  unfinished  supper. 
His  mother,  who  had  overheard  every  word 
that  passed  between  him  and  his  visitor, 
looked  frightened. 

"I  can't  imagine  how  the  thing  got  wind," 
said  Ned  in  rejjly  to  her  inquiring  glances, 
"but  Lambert  seems  to  know  all  about  it.  I 
am  not  afraid  that  he  will  lisj^  it,  but  I  ain 
afraid  it  will  get  to  the  knowledge  of  some 
enemy  who  will  set  Morgan  after  us." 


68  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

"O  Ned,  that  would  be  dreadful,"  said 
Mrs.  Griffin  with  a  perceptible   shudder. 

"I  believe  you.  I  don't  know  what  the 
penalty  is  for  helping  a  deserter,  but  I  believe 
the  major  would  send  us  to  the  front  to  pay 
us  for  it." 

"I  think  you  ought  to  tell  Rodney,"  said 
Mrs.  Griffin. 

"  He  knows  it  as  well  as  I  do  and  is  quite  as 
anxious  ;  but  the  man  can't  walk  or  ride,  and 
how  are  we  going  to  get  him  inside  the  Yankee 
lines?  We  can't  take  him  there  in  a  carriage, 
for  the  roads  are  too  closely  watched.  Of 
course  I  shall  stand  Rodney's  friend,  but  my 
'rough  guess'  is  that  we'll  wish  that  friend 
of  ours  had  gone  somewhere  else  for  the  help 
he  needed," 

That  night  Ned  Griffin  was  aroused  from  a 
sound  sleep  by  his  mother,  who  rapped  upon 
the  door  of  his  room,  and  told  him  in  a  trem- 
bling, excited  voice  that  either  Lambert  had 
proved  himself  a  traitor,  or  else  the  Pearl 
River  ruffians  had  stumbled  upon  some  enemy 
of  Mr.  Gray  who  was  willing  to  act  as  guide, 
for  they  had  certainly  found  the  cotton  and 


MR.    RATTDOLPH   CARRIES   TALES.  C9 

fired  it.  Ned  was  tliunderstruck.  He  hurried 
on  the  few  clothes  he  could  find  in  the  dark 
conveniently,  and  ran  out  to  the  iDorch ;  but 
when  he  had  taken  one  look  at  the  bright  spot 
on  the  sky,  which  seemed  to  be  growing 
brighter  and  larger  every  moment,  and  com- 
pared its  bearings  with  those  of  well-known 
landmarks  in  the  range  of  his  vision,  he  drew 
a  long  breath  of  relief. 

"I  almost  knew  that  Lambert  did  not  tell 
the  truth  when  he  assured  me  he  had  nothing 
on  his  mind,"  said  Ned  to  his  frightened 
mother,  who  had  followed  him  to  the  porch. 
"Go  back  and  sleep  easy.  That  isn't  Mr. 
Gray's  cotton." 

"Are  you  quite  sure  of  it?  How  do  you 
know?"  inquired  Mrs.  Griffin.  "It  must  be 
cotton,  for  there  is  no  house  in  that  direction." 

"  Stand  here  in  front  of  me  and  I  will  show 
you  why  I  know  it  is  not  Mr.  Gray's," 
answered  Ned.  "Now,  squint  along  the  side 
of  that  post  that  stands  on  the  edge  of  the  gal- 
lery, and  bring  your  eye  to  bear  on  that  low 
place  in  the  timber-line.  Do  you  see  it? 
Well,   there's    where    Mr.   Gray's  cotton  is. 


70  SAILOTl  JACK,  THE  TKADER. 

The  pile  that's  burning  is  half  a  mile  fartlier 
off  and  a  mile  farther  to  the  right." 

"Do  you  know  who  owns  it?  " 

"It  belongs  to  Mr.  Randolph,  wlio  Las  no- 
body to  thank  for  it  but  his  dutiful  son  Tom." 

"Ned,  do  you  know  what  you  are  saying  ? " 
said  his  mother  somewhat  sharply. 

"I  am  quite  sure  on  that  point.  Tom  was 
too  handy  with  his  sword  in  the  first  place, 
and  with  his  tongue  in  the  second.  He  ought 
to  have  had  better  sense  than  to  put  such  an 
idea  into  Lambert's  head.  That  man  can  do 
as  much  damage  of  this  sort  as  he  likes,  and 
those  who  don't  know  any  better  will  blame 
the  rebel  guerillas  or  the  Yankee  cavalry  for 
it." 

"  Do  you  think  Lambert  started  that  fire  ?  " 

"I  am  as  well  satisfied  of  it  as  though  I  had 
stood  by  and  seen  him  strike  the  match  that 
set  it  going.  Half  an  hour  more  will  tell  the 
story  at  any  rate.  Now  you  run  back  to  bed, 
and  I  will  stay  here  and  watch  that  low  place 
in  the  trees  I  showed  you  a  moment  ago.  If 
no  blaze  appears  in  that  direction  I  shall  know 
that  this  is  Lambert's  work." 


MR.    RANDOLPH   CARRIES   TALES.  71 

Mrs.  Griffin  retired,  and  Ned  sat  there  on 
the  porch  with  the  hounds  for  company,  and 
looked  first  at  the  bright  glow  on  the  sky  and 
then  at  the  low  place  in  the  timber,  until  day 
dawned  and  Mr.  Gray  and  two  or  three  of 
his  neighbors  rode  up  to  the  bars  and  accosted 
him. 

"Have  you  been  in  there?"  asked  his  em- 
ployer anxiously. 

"No,  sir,"  replied  Ned  emphatically.  *'I 
saw  the  fire,  but  not  knowing  what  sort  of  men 
I  might  find  around  it  I  thought  it  best  to 
keep  away  from  it.  But  I  don't  think  it  was 
your  cotton." 

He  did  not  say  that  he  was  as  certain  as  he 
wanted  to  be  that  the  loss  was  Mr.  Eandolph's, 
and  that  it  had  been  brought  upon  him  by 
Tom's  insane  desire  to  be  revenged  upon  some 
members  of  the  Gray  family,  for  he  knew 
there  were  one  or  two  men  in  the  party  who 
would  not  rest  easy  until  they  had  seen  Tom 
severely  punished.  So  he  awaited  an  oppor- 
tunity to  say  a  word  to  Mr.  Gray  in  private. 

"  I  am  sorry  it  was  anybody's  cotton,  but  of 
course  I  should  be  glad  to  know  it  was  not 


72  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

mine,"  said  Ned's  employer,  witli  an  effort  to 
smile  and  look  as  cheerful  as  usual.  "But  if 
mine  didn't  go  last  niglit  it  may  go  next  week, 
so  I  don't  know  that  it  makes  much  difference. 
Between  Yankees  and  Confederates  we  plant- 
ers stand  a  poor  show  of  selling  a  pound  of 
this  almost  priceless  commodity." 

"Sixty  cents  a  pound!"  groaned  one  of 
Mr.  Gray's  companions.  "Good  money,  too, 
worth  a  hundred  cents  on  a  dollar,  and  now  it 
has  vanished  in  flames  and  smoke." 

"It  wasn't  your  cotton  either,  Mr.  Ran- 
dall," Ned  hastened  to  assure  him.  "  Rodney 
and  I  have  spent  two  weeks  locating  the  cotton 
hidden  in  our  swamp,  and  we  can  tell  within 
two  points  of  the  compass  the  direction  in 
which  every  planter's  property  lies  from  hjs 
gallery  and  mine.  The  pile  that  was  burned 
last  night  was  half-way  between  yours  and  Mr. 
Gray's." 

"  Whose  was  it,  then  ? " 

"Mr.  Randolph's." 

"I  am  very  sorry  to  hear  it,"  said  Mr.  Gray 
earnestly.  "If  it  is  the  truth,  Mr.  Randolph 
will  be  left  in  very  bad  shape." 


MR.    RATsTDOLPH   CARRIES   TALES.  73 

"Wot  worse  than  the  rest  of  us,  I  reckon," 
said  Randall  impatiently.  "He  did  all  he 
could  to  help  on  the  war,  and  now  he's  afraid 
to  go  to  the  front  and  help  fight  it  out.  It 
serves  him  right." 

Mr.  Gray  might  have  retorted  that  there 
were  others  in  the  same  boat — that  Mr.  Randall 
himself  had  been  a  fierce  secessionist  when  the 
war  first  broke  out  and  the  Union  armies  and 
gunboats  were  far  away,  but  now  professed  to 
be  a  strong  Union  man  because  he  was  anxious 
to  save  his  cotton  from  being  confiscated  ;  but 
he  said  not  a  word  in  reply.  He  turned  away 
from  the  bars,  and  Ned  Griffin  hastened  to  the 
stable-yard  to  put  the  saddle  on  his  horse. 
His  riding  nag  and  Rodney's  were  among 
the  few  that  had  been  left  to  their  owners  when 
Breckenridge' s  army  retreated  after  the  battle 
of  Baton  Rouge,  and  the  reason  they  were  left 
was  because  the  boys  had  done  so  much  hos- 
pital duty  both  before  and  after  the  fight. 
The  rebel  soldiers  repaid  their  kindness  by 
doing  as  little  stealing  as  possible  under  the 
circumstances ;  but  when  the  rear-guard  dis- 
appeared from  view  the  two  friends  could  not 


74  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TUADER. 

find  any  bacon  and  meal  for  breakfast.  But 
their  flocks  of  chickens  and  the  few  scrub  cows 
that  were  relied  on  to  supply  the  plantations 
with  milk  and  butter  were  not  molested,  and 
Ned  and  Rodney  were  thankful  for  that.  The 
former  came  up  with  Mr.  Gray  and  his  party 
before  they  had  gone  very  far,  and  when  they 
reached  Eodney's  place  they  were  joined  by 
Rodney  himself,  who  seemed  to  be  on  the 
watch  for  them.  He  waved  his  hat  in  the  air 
when  he  saw  his  father  and  Ned  approaching, 
but  put  it  on  his  head  quickly  when  he  discov- 
ered that  they  were  not  alone.  In  a  moment 
more  he  would  have  said  something  to  be  sorry 
for,  because  he  knew  whose  cotton  had  been 
burned  and  who  was  responsible  for  it.  After 
greeting  his  father  and  exchanging  opinions 
with  him  and  his  friends,  he  fell  back  to  the 
rear  and  rode  by  Ned's  side,  but  could  find 
no  opportunity  to  compare  notes  with  him. 
However,  each  understood  what  the  other  would 
have  said  if  he  could. 

Half  an  hour's  riding  brought  them  to  the 
pile  of  smoking  cinders  and  ashes  that  covered 
the  sj)ot  where  Mr.  Randolph's  cotton  had  been 


MU.    RANDOLPH   CARRIES  TALES.  75 

concealed  inside  a  dense  thicket  of  trees  and 
bushes  whose  interior  had  been  cleared  away 
to  receive  it.  The  road  made  by  the  heavy 
four-mule  wagons  in  passing  in  and  out  of  the 
woods  had  been  so  carefully  filled  with  logs 
and  tree-tops  that  scarcely  a  trace  of  it  could 
be  seen  now,  and  its  owner  had  indulged 
in  the  hope  that,  with  the  exception  of  a 
few  neighbors  and  faithful  servants,  no  one 
knew  the  hiding-place  of  all  that  was  left  of 
his  once  abundant  wealth  ;  but  some  enemy 
had  found  it  out,  and  he  was  a  ruined  man. 
This  was  the  opinion  expressed  by  every  one 
of  Mr.  Gray's  party,  for  when  they  came  to 
examine  the  ground,  which  they  did  immedi- 
ately upon  their  arrival,  they  did  not  find  a 
single  hoof-print  save  those  that  had  been 
made  by  their  own  riding  horses. 

"There's  no  cavalry  been  in  here,"  said  Mr. 
Randall,  who  was  the  first  to  give  utterance  to 
the  thoughts  that  were  in  the  minds  of  all, 
"  and,  according  to  my  way  of  thinking,  that 
proves  something." 

There  were  a  few  half-consumed  bales  on  the 
outside  of  the  smoking  pile,  and  it  was  while 


76  SAILOE  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

the  party  was  engaged  in  pulling  tliese  farther 
out  of  reach  of  the  fire  that  Mr,  Randolph  and 
his  neighbor  appeared  on  the  scene.  Mr. 
Walker  looked  somewhat  relieved,  but  re- 
marked in  an  undertone  that  there  might  have 
been  more  than  one  fire  even  if  he  didn'  t  see 
it,  and  rode  away  at  a  rapid  pace  to  assure 
himself  of  the  safety  of  his  own  cotton,  while 
Mr.  Randolph  sat  on  his  mule  and  gazed 
mournfully  at  the  blackened  pile  before  him. 
There  was  no  one  who  could  say  a  word  to 
comfort  him,  for  by  this  time  the  planters  were 
all  satisfied  in  their  own  minds  that  someone 
with  whom  they  were  well  acquainted  had 
done  the  work ;  and  if  that  was  the  case,  it 
might  not  be  a  great  while  before  their  own 
cotton  would  disappear  in  the  same  way. 
They  gradually  drew  away  and  left  him  to 
his  gloomy  reflections,  and  then  it  was  that 
Rodney  and  Ned  had  a  chance  to  compare 
notes  and  say  a  word  to  Mr.  Gray  in  private. 
When  the  latter  had  listened  to  Ned's  story, 
all  he  had  to  say  was  that  it  would  have  been 
better  for  the  community  if  Mr.  Randolph  had 
not  been  so  persistent  in  his  efforts  to  have 


MR.    RANDOLPH   CARRIES   TALES.  77 

Tom  released  from  military  duty.  Of  course 
he  and  the  boys  did  not  fail  to  satisfy  them- 
selves that  the  cotton  in  which  they  were  most 
interested  was  still  safe  in  its  place  of  conceal- 
ment, and  Mr.  Randolph  did  the  same ;  that  is, 
he  spent  all  the  forenoon  in  visiting  the  differ- 
ent localities  in  which  his  neighbors'  cotton 
had  been  hidden,  and  when  he  found,  as  he 
had  suspected  from  the  first,  that  he  was  the 
only  sufferer,  his  thoughts  were  bitter  and 
revengeful  indeed.  To  make  matters  worse 
Mr.  Walker  said  to  him  while  they  were  on 
their  way  home : 

"  If  you  were  the  only  Confederate  in  the 
settlement  I  could  easily  explain  this  business  ; 
but  why  you  should  be  singled  out  among  so 
many  is  something  I  can't  understand,  unless 
it  is  because  your  son  Tom  has  served  the 
cause   with   too   much  zeal." 

"Tom  hasn't  done  any  more  than  others, 
nor  as  much,"  replied  Mr.  Randolph.  "Rod- 
ney Gray  served  fifteen  months  in  the  army, 
and  here  he  is  living  in  perfect  security  and 
entirely  unmolested  by  our  conscript  officers, 
although  he  is  known  to  be  hand-and-glove 


78  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

with  the  enemies  of  his  country.  I  believe  he 
has  assisted  escaped  Yankee  prisoners,  even  if 
otliers  do  not." 

"Perhaps  he  has,"  said  Mr.  Walker,  who 
was  one  of  those  disbelieving  ones  who  laughed 
the  loudest  when  Tom  told  of  his  desperate 
fight  with  "Uncle  Sam's  Lost  Boys,"  who  had 
been  chased  by  bloodhounds  while  they  were 
terrorizing  the  country  between  Camp  Pinck- 
ney  and  Mooreville.  Mr.  Walker  knew,  of 
course,  that  there  were  four  escaped  prisoners 
somewhere  in  the  woods,  who  ran  when  tLey 
could,  and  killed  their  pursuers  as  often  as 
a  fight  was  forced  upon  them,  but  he  did  not 
believe  that  Tom  Randolph  had  been  a  cap- 
tive in  their  hands  as  he  pretended,  or  that  he 
had  escaped  by  knocking  his  guard  on  the 
head  with  the  butt  of  a  musket.  He  knew 
Tom  too  well  to  put  faith  in  any  such  story. 
He  did  not  believe,  either,  that  Rodney  Gray 
would  go  back  on  his  record  as  a  loyal  Con- 
federate by  helping  runaway  Yankees  inside 
the  lines  at   Baton   Rouge, 

"Perhaps  he  has,  though  it  is  a  hard  tale 
for  me  to  swallow,"  continued  Mr.  Walker. 


MR.    RANDOLPH   CARRIES   TALES.  79 

"But  if  you'd  said  that  Rodney  was  given  to 
helping  deserters  I'd  believe  you.  He's  got 
one  in  hiding  this  very  minute." 

"  How  do  you  know  that  ? "  demanded  Mr. 
Randolph,  now  beginning  to  show  some  inter- 
est in  what  his  companion  was  saying. 

"You  can't  keep  anything  from  the  nig- 
gers these  times,  and  yesterday  I  overheard 
two  of  my  house  servants  talking  about  it 
when  they  thought  they  were  alone,"  answered 
Mr.  Walker.  "It  seems  that  Rodney  and 
young  Griffin  found  the  man  in  the  woods  half 
dead  from  wounds  and  hunger  and  exhaustion, 
and  took  him  home  to  nurse  him  back  to 
health.  There  wouldn't  be  anything  so  very 
bad  about  that,  and  I  don't  suppose  Major 
Morgan  would  object  to  it  if  he  knew  it ;  hut 
the  man  doesn't  want  to  go  back  to  camp,  and 
as  soon  as  he  is  able  to  travel  Rodney  allows 
to  take  him  to  the  river.  There's  something 
wrong  in  that,  I  reckon." 

"I  should  say  there  was,"  exclaimed  Mr. 
Randolph,  who  told  himself  that  now  was  the 
time  to  make  his  more  fortunate  neighbor  suf- 
fer as  keenly  as  he  was  suJffering  himself  in 


80  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

losing  liis  valuable  store  of  cotton.  "Sncli 
work  as  that  must  be  against  the  law,  and  the 
conscript  officer  ought  to  do  something  about 
it." 

"Tliat's  what  I  think,"  said  Mr.  Walker; 
and  then  the  two  relapsed  into  silence,  for 
neither  was  willing  to  speak  the  thoughts 
that  were  passing  through   his  mind. 

When  they  reached  the  cross-roads  they 
separated,  Mr.  Walker  keeping  on  toward 
home,  while  Tom's  father,  believing  it  to  be  a 
good  plan  to  strike  while  the  iron  was  hot, 
turned  his  mule  in  the  direction  of  Kimberley's 
store.  He  found  Major  Morgan  there  ;  in  fact 
he  was  always  there,  for  it  was  his  place  of 
business,  and  wasted  not  a  moment  in  convey- 
ing to  him  the  startling  information  he  had 
received  from  his  friend  Walker :  but  to  his 
unbounded  surprise  the  major  took  it  very 
coolly.  He  listened  until  Mr.  Randolph  had 
told  his  story  and  then  broke  out  almost 
fiercely : 

"Do  you  for  a  moment  imagine  that  I  would 
have  been  ordered  here  if  I  had  not  been 
thought  capable  of  attending  to  affairs  in  my 


MP.    RANDOLPH   CARUIES   TALES.  81 

district  ?  That  news  is  old.  I  knew  all  about 
it  a  week  ago." 

"Then  why  didn't  you  arrest  Rodney 
Grray  a  week  ago?"  said  Mr.  Randolph 
hotly. 

"  Because  I  am  tired  of  working  on  evidence 
that  is  furnished  me  by  tale-bearers.  You've 
got  something  against  that  young  Gray  or  you 
would  not  tell  me  this.  I  am  satisfied  to  let 
that  deserter  stay  where  he  is  for  the  present. 
He's  getting  well  there  ;  he  would  die  at  Cami) 
Pinckney." 

"  You  ought  to  be  inside  the  Yankee  lines," 
declared  Mr.  Randolph,  his  rage  getting  the 
better  of  his  prudence.  "  There's  where  you 
belong." 

"  And  there's  Avhere  you  will  start  for  if  you 
don't  leave  my  office  this  instant,"  roared  the 
major,  rising  to  his  feet  and  upsetting  his 
chair  in  the  act.     "  Captain  !  " 

But  Mr.  Randolph  did  not  linger  for  the 
captain  to  present  himself.  He  hastened 
through  the  door,  glancing  nervously  at  the 
soldiers  he  passed  on  the  way  for  fear  they 
might  stop  him,  swung  himself  upon  his  mule, 
6 


82  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

and  started  for  liome,  lost  in  wonder.  It 
seemed  that  in  some  very  mysterious  manner 
Rodney  liad  gained  an  influence  with  the 
crusty  conscript  officer  equal  to  that  which  he 
exercised  with  the  Federals  in  Baton  Rouge. 
"Well,  he  had  ;  but  there  was  no  mystery  about 
it,  only  a  little  strategy.  Rodney  had  been 
intrusted  by  the  major  with  a  few  gold  pieces 
which  he  had  exchanged  in  Baton  Rouge  for 
greenbacks,  and  it  wasn't  likely  that  the 
officer  was  going  to  be  hard  on  the  boy  who 
kept  his  pocket  filled  with  good  money.  Even 
inside  the  Confederate  lines  greenbacks  passed 
at  par,  and  would  buy  more  than  rebel  scrip, 
on  which  there  was  a  heavy  discount.  But 
Rodney  did  not  carry  news ;  that  is  to  say, 
neither  side  could  wring  from  him  a  word  of 
information  concerning  the  doings  of  the  other 
side.  The  Federal  provost  marshal  knew  this 
and  so  did  Major  Morgan,  and  the  conse- 
quence was  they  were  both  willing  to  trust 
him.  To  quote  Rodney's  own  language,  he 
had  fought  for  fame  and  didn't  get  it,  and  now 
he  was  working  for  money.  All  he  had  in 
prospect  was  wrapped  up  in  his  father's  cot- 


MR.    RANDOLPH   CARRIES   TALES.  83 

ton,  which  was  the  source  of  no  little  anxiety 
and  trouble  to  him. 

Rodney  was  not  aware  that  the  major  knew 
he  was  harboring  a  rebel  deserter,  who  had 
been  badly  wounded  while  escaping  from  the 
stockade  at  Camp  Pinckney,  and  was  careful 
to  keep  the  fact  from  the  knowledge  of  all 
except  those  who  could  be  trusted.  He  did 
not  care  to  receive  callers,  for  fear  there  might 
be  a  spy  or  mischief-maker  among  them,  and 
relied  upon  his  hounds  to  give  him  warning 
when  anyone  rode  up  to  the  front  bars.  They 
acted  so  savagely  when  they  rushed  in  a  body 
down  the  walk  to  meet  a  stranger,  that  the 
latter,  whoever  he  might  be,  usually  thought 
it  prudent  to  hail  the  house  before  venturing 
to  dismount,  thus  giving  Rodney  time  to  get 
the  deserter  into  some  inner  room  where  he 
would  be  out  of  sight.  But  one  morning, 
about  two  weeks  after  the  occurrence  of  the 
events  we  have  just  recorded,  he  had  visitors 
so  many  in  number  that  they  stood  in  no  fear 
of  the  hounds,  nor  did  they  hail  the  house. 
They  simply  threw  down  one  or  two  of  the  top 
bars,  jumped  their  horses  over  the  rest,  and 


84  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

came  up  on  a  gallop,  their  leader  drawing  rein 
in  front  of  the  open  door,  just  in  time  to  catch 
a  momentary  glimpse  of  the  deserter  as  he 
vanished  into  a  back  room.  Rodney's  heart 
sank.  He  Lad  had  all  his  work  and  worry  for 
nothing.  Of  course  his  unwelcome  visitors, 
who  were  Federal  cavalrymen,  would  take  the 
deserter  to  Baton  Rouge  when  they  went  and 
sliiiD  him  off  to  a  Northern  prison.  The  officer 
in  command  of  the  squad,  which  was  a  much 
larger  one  than  Rodney  had  ever  seen  scouting 
through  the  country  before,  proved  to  be  a 
captain  whose  acquaintance  he  had  formed 
during  one  of  his  visits  to  the  provost  mar- 
shal's office,  and  he  walked  out  on  the  porch 
and  faced  him  as  if  he  had  nothing  to  conceal. 

"Good-morning,"  said  he,  with  a  military 
salute.  "What  brought  you  out  here  in  such 
a  hurry  and  so  far  from  your  base  ? " 

The  captain  waved  his  hand  toward  the 
back-yard  as  if  to  say  to  his  men  that  they 
were  at  liberty  to  break  ranks  and  quench 
their  thirst  at  the  well,  and  then  he  answered 
Rodney's  question. 

"We  came  out  to  pay  our  respects  to  the 


MR,    RANDOLPH   CARRIES  TALES.  85 

conscript  officer  in  Mooreville,  but  lie  was 
uncivil  enough  to  light  out  before  we  could 
exchange  a  word  with  hira,"  said  the  captain. 
"  We  didn't  want  to  ride  all  the  way  out  here 
for  nothing,  and  so  we  changed  our  scouting 
party  into  a  cotton-burning  expedition.  I 
don't  suppose  you  would  know  a  bale  of  cot- 
ton if  you  ran  against  it,  would  you  ? " 

The  words  were  spoken  in  jest,  but  Rodney 
knew  there  was  a  good  deal  of  truth  in  them, 
for  he  looked  over  the  captain's  shoulder  and 
saw  a  negro  standing  at  the  bars  under  guard. 
He  was  one  of  Mr.  Randall's  field-hands,  who 
had  assisted  in  hauling  his  master's  cotton 
into  the  swamp. 


CHAPTER  ly. 

THE  PHANTOM   BUSHWHACKERS. 

""1~  AM  not  exactly  on  a  cotton-burning 
JL  expedition  either,"  continued  the  cap- 
tain, after  he  had  drained  the  gourd  which 
one  of  his  men  brought  him,  filled  with  water 
fresh  from  the  well,  "but  I  am  ordered  to  look 
around  and  find  it,  so  that  I  can  tell  whether 
or  not  it  will  pay  the  government  to  send  out 
wagons  to  haul  it  in.  But  if  it  is  in  such  a 
bad  place  that  we  can't  get  it  out,  of  course 
we  shall  have  to  burn  it  to  keep  the  enemy 
from  profiting  by  it.  I  understand  that  there 
is  a  good  deal  of  cotton  hidden  about  here 
somewhere,  but  I  hope  yours  is  where  nobody 
will  find  it." 

"I  haven't  a  bale  to  bless  myself  with," 
replied  Rodney. 

"Perhaps  not,  but  your  father  has;  several 
of  them,"  said  the  officer  with  a  smile.  "Bat 
I  tell  you  it  will  go  against  the  grain  for  us  to 


THE  PIIATfTOM  BUSHWHACKERS.  87 

toucli  anytliing  that  belongs  to  you,  after  what 
you  did  for  some  of  our  escaped  prisoners." 

"  Then  why  can' t  you  give  us  a  chance  to 
take  it  inside  your  lines  and  sell  it  ?  "  inquired 
Rodney.  "If  it  is  the  policy  of  the  Federal 
government  to  drain  the  South  of  cotton,  don't 
you  see  that  every  bale  we  put  into  your 
hands  will  be  one  bale  less  for  the  Con- 
federates ?" 

"I  understand  that  very  well,  but  you  see 
your  rebel  record  is  dead  against  you.  You 
fought  us  like  fury  for  more  than  a  year,  and 
now,  when  you  find  that  you  are  in  a  fair  way 
to  get  soundly  whipped,  you  want  to  turn 
around  and  make  money  out  of  us.  That 
plan  won't  work,  Johnny.  If  you  could  blot 
out  your  war  record,  or  if  you  knew  some  solid 
Union  man  you  could  trust  to  sell  your  cotton 
for  you,  why  then " 

"There  isn't  a  man,  Union  or  rebel,  in 
Louisiana  that  I  would  trust  to  do  work  of 
that  kind,"  declared  Rodney  with  emphasis. 
"I  don't  say  whether  my  father  has  any 
cotton  or  not ;  but  if  he  has  he  woul^  tell  you 
Yanks  to  burn  it  and  welcome  before  he  would 


88  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

give  any  friend  of  liis  a  cliance  to  cheat  liim 
out  of  it.  Wlio  buys  cotton  in  the  city — the 
government  ? " 

"No;  speculators.  The  government  grabs 
it  without  so  much  assaying  '  by  your  leave.'  " 

"Do  you  give  those  speculators  military 
protection?" 

"Not  yet.  They  take  their  own  chances, 
and  protect  themselves  if  they  go  outside  the 
pickets.  But  they  are  working  for  protection, 
and  some  day  they'll  get  it." 

"  Do  they  pay  in  gold  ? " 

"  Not  as  anybody  has  ever  heard  of,"  replied 
the  captain  with  a  laugh.  "Confederate scrip 
for  one  thing,  and " 

"  I  wouldn't  look  at  it,"  exclaimed  Rodney. 
"I  wouldn't  give  a  bale  of  good  cotton  for  a 
cart-load  of  Confederate  scrip." 

"  A  fine  loyal  grayback  you  are  to  talk  that 
way  about  your  country's  shinj^lasters,"  said 
the  captain  with  another  hearty  laugh.  "If 
all  rebel  soldiers  are  like  you,  I  don't  see  why 
your  armies  didn't  fall  to  pieces  long  ago." 

"It  is  because  they  are  held  together  by 
discipline  that  would  drive  Union  soldiers  into 


THE   PHANTOM   BUSHWHACKERS.  89 

mutiny  in  less  than  a  week,"  said  Rodney 
bitterlj^  "I'll  take  to  the  woods  witli  the  rest 
of  the  outlaws  before  they  shall  ever  have  an 
opportunity  to  try  it  on  me  again,  and  I  know 
hundreds  of  others  who  feel  the  same  way. 
But  I  wish  you  would  tell  a  sorry  rebel  how 
to  change  cotton  into  money.  If  you  will,  I 
may  become  a  trader  myself." 

"If  hj  money  jon  mean  something  besides 
Confederate  rags,  I  must  tell  you  that  it  is 
what  you  will  not  see  until  every  rebel  has 
laid  down  his  arms  and  quit  fighting  the  gov- 
ernment, because  all  cotton  brought  within 
our  lines  has  to  be  purchased  on  contracts  for 
payment  at  the  close  of  the  war " 

"Then  go  ahead  with  your  burning  expedi- 
tion," said  Rodney,  who  thought  he  had  never 
heard  anything  quite  so  preposterous. 
"You'll  get  mighty  little  cotton  about  here 
on  those   terms." 

" at  the  close  of  the  war,"   continued 

the  captain,  paying  no  heed  to  the  interrup- 
tion, "because,  if  paid  for  in  coin  or  green- 
backs, the  money  would  be  sure,  sooner  or 
later,  to  find  its  way  into  the  rebel  treasury. 


90  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

Your  authorities  will  not  steal  their  own 
money,  for  they  know  how  worthless  it  is  ; 
but  they'll  steal  ours,  and  use  it  too,  every 
chance  they  get.  I  suppose  that  darky  out 
there  at  the  bars  can  show  me  where  the 
cotton  is  concealed?" 

"He  knows  where  every  bale  of  it  is,"  an- 
swered Rodney.     *'  He  helped  hide  it." 

"He  declares  he  don't  want  to  go  to  Baton 
Rouge  with  us,  but  if  he  acts  as  my  guide  I 
shall  have  to  take  him  along,  or  you  fellows 
who  lose  cotton  will  kill  him." 

"And  no  doubt  you  will  kill  him  if  he 
refuses  to  act  as  your  guide,  so  he  is  bound 
to  be  killed  any  way  you  fix  it,"  said  Rodney 
in  disgust.  "  He'll  not  be  harmed  if  he  stays 
at  home  after  you  leave,  and  nobody  knows  it 
better  than  he  does.     Ask  him  and  see." 

"  Prepare  to  mount !  "  shouted  the  captain, 
thinking  his  men  had  wasted  time  enough  at 
the  well.  "By  the  way,"  he  added,  in  a  lower 
tone,  "  who's  your  company,  and  why  did  he 
dig  out  in  such  haste  when  I  rode  up  to  the 
door  ?  He's  a  reb,  I  know  it  by  the  cut  of 
his  jib." 


THE  PHANTOM  BUSHWHACKEES.  91 

"  He's  a  conscript  I  know,  but  lie's  a  deserter 
as  well,  and  as  good  a  Union  man  as  you  are. 
He  was  in  pretty  bad  shape  wlien  I  found  him 
running  from  the  hounds,  but  he  is  able  to 
travel  now,  and  if  you  will  leave  him  here  a  few 
days  longer  he  will  be  glad  to  take  refuge 
inside  your  lines,"  whispered  Rodney,  believ- 
ing that  the  surest  way  for  his  patient  to  escape 
trouble  was  to  give  the  captain  opportunity  to 
parole  him  then  and  there.  *'  He  hasn't  done 
any  fighting,  and  never  means  to  if  he  can 
help  it." 

"Then  he  can  stay  and  welcome,  for  all  I 
care,"  replied  the  captain,  "I  never  run  a 
man  in  as  a  prisoner  unless  I  have  reason  to 
think  he  is  dangerous." 

"  Where  did  you  find  Mr.  Randall's  black 
man,  and  how  did  you  come  to  pick  him  up 
for  a  guide?"  inquired  Rodney. 

"  I  don't  know  that  I  ought  to  tell  you,  but 
didn't  one  of  your  neighbors  lose  some  cotton 
a  while  ago  ?  His  name  is  Randolph,  and  he 
wants  us  to  look  out  for  a  worthless  fellow 
named  Lambert,  who,  he  thinks,  burned  the 
cotton  for  him.     He  told  me  to  go  quietly  up 


92  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

to  Randall's  and  ask  for  Mose,  and  I  would 
find  in  liim  a  good  guide  ;  but  I  was  in  no  case 
to  speak  Bandolpli's  name  in  anybody's  hear- 
ing, and  you  see  what  pains  I  have  taken  not 
to  do  it.  But  I  don't  care.  It's  spite  work  on 
Randolph's  part." 

"Of  course  it  is,"  answered  Rodney,  who 
was  so  discouraged  that  he  had  half  a  mind  to 
say  that  he  would  return  to  the  army,  and 
stay  there  until  one  side  or  the  other  was 
whipped  into  submission.  "Mr.  Randolph  will 
work  against  everyone  in  the  settlement  now." 

"Very  likely.  Misery  loves  company,  you 
know  ;  and  perhaps  there  are  more  men  work- 
ing against  you  than  you  think  for.  Do  you 
know  this  Lambert,  and  has  he  any  cause  to  be 
down  on  you  ?  " 

"I  do  know  him,  but  he  hasn't  the  shadow 
of  an  excuse  to  be  at  enmity  with  me  or  any 
of  my  family,"  said  Rodney  in  surprise.  And 
then  it  was  on  the  end  of  his  tongue  to  add 
that  Lambert  was  working  for  him — standing 
guard  over  his  cotton  to  see  that  no  one 
troubled  it,  but  he  afterward  had  reason  to  be 
glad  that  he  did  not  say  it. 


THE  PHANTOM  BUSHWHACKERS.  93 

*'  Then  he  is  jealous,  or  I  should  say  envious, 
of  you,  because  you  are  rich  and  he  is  poor," 
said  the  captain,  reining  his  horse  about  in 
readiness  to  follow  his  men,  who  were  now 
riding  toward  the  bars.  "If  he  and  his 
friends  can  sell  your  cotton  so  that  they  can 
pocket  the  money  they'll  do  it " 

"But  they  can't.  He  shan't,"  exclaimed 
Rodney,  who  was  utterly  confounded.  "He 
hasn't  brains  enough  to  carry  out  such  a  bare- 
faced cheat,  nor  the  power,  either ;  though  no 
doubt  his  will  is  good  enough." 

"  Randolph  says  it  is  ;  and  he  says  further, 
that  when  Lambert  finds  that  he  can' t  make 
anything  out  of  that  cotton,  he'll  burn  it. 
But  I  must  be  riding  along.  I'll  be  back 
before  dark,  and  if  this  deserter  of  yours 
would  be  glad  of  my  escort,  I'll  take  him  to 
Baton  Rouge  with  me.  What  would  your 
Home  Guards  do  to  you  if  they  should  jump 
down  on  you  and  find  him  here  under  your 
roof?" 

"It's  a  matter  I  don't  like  to  think  of," 
answered  Rodney,  "and  I  shall  feel  safer  if 
you  take  him  away.     Good-by ;  but  I  can't 


94  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

wish  you  good  luck.  I  wish  I  had  neyer  seen 
you,"  he  added  under  his  breath,  "for  you 
have  robbed  me  of  all  my  peace  of  mind. 
So  Lambert  is  a  traitor,  is  he  ?  and  my  plan 
for  gaining  his  good  will  hasn't  amounted  to 
shucks.  I'll  tell  father  about  it  the  first 
thing  in  the  morning,  and  would  do  it  to-day 
if  I  didn't  want  to  see  that  captain  when  he 
returns." 

The  deserter  came  out  of  his  hiding-place 
when  summoned,  and  eagerly  promised  to  be 
on  hand  to  accompany  the  Federal  soldiers  to 
Baton  Rouge.  He  didn't  know  what  he  would 
do  for  a  living  when  he  got  there,  he  said,  but 
it  would  be  a  great  comfort  to  know  that  he 
would  not  be  forced  into  the  army  to  fight 
against  the  old  flag.  Rodney  was  too  down- 
hearted to  say  anything  encouraging,  but  he 
gave  him  a  short  note  to  Mr.  Martin,  who  would 
see  that  he  did  not  suffer  while  he  was  looking 
for  employment.  Then  he  walked  out  on  the 
porch,  for  he  wanted  to  be  alone,  and  at  that 
moment  Ned  Griffin  rode  into  the  yard. 

"O  Rodney!"  he  exclaimed.  "Did  that 
cotton-burning  expedition  stop  here,  and  do 


THE  pha:ntom  bushwhackers.  95 

you  know  that  there's  the  very  mischief  to 
pay?  That  nigger  of  Randall's  will  never 
show  them  where  his  master's  cotton  is  hidden, 
but  he'll  take  them  as  straight  as  he  can  to 
yours  and  Walker's.  I  tell  you  that  cotton  is 
gone  up  unless  we  do  something." 

"Have  you  any  suggestions  to  make?" 
asked  Rodney. 

"Let's  engage  all  the  teams  we  can  rake 
and  scrape  and  haul  it  somewhere  else,"  said 
Ned  at  a  venture. 

"What  good  will  that  do  ?  It's  in  as  fine  a 
hiding-place  now  as  there  is  in  the  country, 
and  where  are  the  wagons  to  come  from  ?  And 
the  harness  ?  It  is  all  I  can  do  to  find  gears 
for  eight  plough-mules." 

Ned  rode  away  to  turn  his  horse  into  the 
stable-yard,  spent  a  long  time  in  taking  a 
drink  at  the  well,  and  finally  came  back  and 
sat  down  on  the  porch. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  that  scoundrel 
Lambert,  anyway?"  he  inquired. 

"That  my  plan  for  getting  on  his  blind  side 
did  not  work  as  well  as  we  thought  it  was  going 
to.    He  has  got  even  with  Tom  Randolph  for 


96  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

drawing  a  sword  on  liim,  and  now  he  intends 
to  get  square  with  my  father  for  threatening 
him  with  a  nigger's  punishment." 

"I  was  with  the  mob  that  night,"  said  the 
young  overseer  angrily,  "heard  every  word 
that  was  said,  and  know  that  your  father  never 
threatened  Lambert  with  anything.  He  de- 
fended him  and  Tom  as  well,  and  sent  me  to 
warn  them  that  they  had  better  clear  out 
while  the  way  w^as  open  to  them.  And  the 
last  time  I  saw  Lambert  he  pretended  to  be 
grateful  to  Mr.  Gray  for  what  he  said  and  did 
that  night.     Oh,  the  villain !  " 

But  it  did  no  good  to  rail  at  Lambert  for  his 
perfidy,  nor  yet  to  discuss  the  situation,  for 
the  one  was  safely  out  of  their  reach,  and  talk- 
ing and  planning  only  served  to  show  them 
how  very  gloomy  and  perplexing  the  other 
was.  It  was  simply  exasperating  to  know  that 
they  were  utterly  helpless,  but  that  was  the 
conclusion  at  which  they  finally  arrived. 
Time  might  make  all  things  right,  or  it  might 
reduce  Mr.  Gray  to  poverty ;  and  all  they 
could  do  was  to  wait  and  see  what  it  had  in 
store  for  them. 


THE   PHANTOM   BUSHWHACKERS.  97 

Ned  G-riffiii  had  been  in  Rodnej^'s  company 
about  two  hours  when  one  of  the  hounds  sud- 
denly gave  tongue,  and  the  whole  pack  went 
racing  down  to  the  bars.  There  was  no  one  in 
sight,  but  after  listening  a  moment  the  boys 
heard  the  tramping  of  a  multitude  of  hoofs  up 
the  road  in  the  direction  in  which  the  Federal 
soldiers  had  disappeared  with  Mr.  Randall's 
field -liand  for  a  guide.  As  the  boys  arose  to 
their  feet  the  leading  fours  of  the  column  came 
into  view. 

"Sure's  you  live  that's  them,"  whispered 
Wed.  "But  what  brought  them  back  so 
soon?" 

Rodney  hadn't  the  least  idea,  but  suggested 
that  possibly  the  negro  guide  had  missed  his 
way. 

"If  he  did  he  missed  it  on  purpose;  but 
that's  a  thing  he  could  not  be  hired  to  do  for 
fear  the  Yanl^ees  would  shoot  him,"  rej^lied 
Ned.     "  He  may  have  given  them  the  slip." 

"Never  in  this  Avorld,"   answered  Rodney 

emphatically.      "When   that   darky  left  my 

bars  he  was  riding  double  with  one   of  the 

troopers,  and  there  was  a  guard  on  each  side 

7 


98  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

of  him.  If  he  tried  to  run,  he  is  dead  enough 
now." 

The  boys  ran  to  the  bars  to  wait  for  the 
captain,  who  rode  at  the  head  of  the  column, 
to  approach  within  speaking  distance,  and 
when  he  did  the  words  he  addressed  to  them 
almost  knocked  them  over.  .  He  appeared  to 
be  as  pleasant  and  good-natured  as  usual,  but 
some  of  the  men  behind  him  looked  ugly. 

"Why  didn't  you  tell  me  that  that  cotton 
down  there  in  the  swamp  is  guarded  by  a 
battalion  of  phantom  bushwhackers?"  said 
he. 

"  A  battalion  of  what  ?"  exclaimed  Rodney, 
as  soon  as  he  could  speak. 

"Bushwhackers.  Sharpshooters,"  replied 
the  captain. 

"  Home  Guards  ?  "  inquired  Ned. 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,  but  I  judge  that 
they  have  your  cotton  under  their  protection, 
for  all  they  tried  to  do  was  to  kill  the  darky 
so  that  he  couldn't  show  us  where  it  was. 
The  men  who  rode  in  the  rear  of  the  line  never 
heard  the  whistle  of  a  bullet,  although  they 
sung  around  me  and  the  nig  pretty  lively  ;  and 


THE   PHANTOM   BUSHWHACKERS.  99 

when  the  nig  dropped  -they  ceased  firing  on 
the  instant.  We  charged  the  woods  in  every 
direction,  but  never  saw  one  of  them,  nor  did 
they  make  the  least  attempt  to  ambush  us,  as 
they  could  have  done  if  they  had  felt  like  it." 

Rodney  Gray  had  seldom  been  so  aston- 
ished. He  looked  hard  at  the  captain  and 
did  not  know  what  to  say.  The  whole  thing 
was  a  mystery  he  could  not  explain  on  the 
spur  of  the  moment.  The  captain  sat  on  his 
horse  in  front  of  the  bars  while  he  talked,  but 
the  line  x^assed  on  until  the  rear  fours  came  up 
and  halted.  Then  the  boys  saw  that  there  was 
a  rude  litter  slung  between  two  of  the  horses, 
and  that  the  form  of  Mr.  Randall's  unfortu- 
nate field-hand  was  stretched  upon  it.  Rod- 
ney walked  up  to  the  litter  at  once,  but  Ned 
timidly  held  back.  There  was  a  crimson  stain 
on  the  bandage  the  negro  wore  about  his 
head,  and  Ned  could  not  endure  the  sight  of 
blood. 

"Oh,  he  isn't  dead,"  said  the  captain,  "  but 
he's  too  badly  hurt  to  go  any  farther  just  now. 
Besides,  we  can't  move  as  rapidly  as  we  would 
like  as  long  as  Ave  have  him   with  us,  and  I 


100  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

would  take  it  as  a  favor  if  you  will  care  for 
him  until  his  master  can  be  sent  for." 

"Throw  down  those  bars,  Ned,"  said  Rod- 
ney, looking  back  over  his  shoulder  as  he 
started  on  a  run  for  the  house.  "Bring  him 
along  and  I  will  have  a  place  fixed  for  him. 
Phantom  bushwhackers  !  "  he  said  to  himself. 
"  Now  who  do  you  suppose  they  were  ?  Not 
Lambert  and  his  gang  certainly,  for  they 
haven't  the  pluck  to  do  such  a  thing;  but  I 
can  think  of  no  others  who  would  be  likely  to 
turn  bushwhackers.  Now's  your  chance  for 
freedom  and  safety,"  he  added,  pausing  long 
enough  to  shake  hands  with  the  deserter  and 
help  him  down  from  the  porch.  "  Be  ready  to 
mount  behind  one  of  those  Yanks  when  you 
get  the  word,  and  good  luck  to  you." 

Rodney's  first  care  was  to  see  that  the 
wounded  guide  was  made  as  comfortable  as 
circumstances  would  permit,  and  his  second 
to  send  one  of  his  own  field-hands  to  bring  Mr. 
Randall  and  a  doctor.  After  that,  when  he 
had  answered  a  farewell  signal  from  the  de- 
serter, and  the  last  of  the  Federal  column  had 
disappeared  down  the  road,  he  and  Ned  went 


THE   PHANTOM   BUSHWHACKERS.  101 

back  to  the  porch,  and  sat  down  to  talk  the 
matter  over. 

"I  am  as  frightened  now  as  I  ever  was  in 
the  army,"  said  Rodney  honestly.  "I  never 
could  stand  a  mystery." 

"There's  no  mystery  about  this  business," 
replied  Ned.  "The  Yanks  lost  their  guide, 
and  had  sense  enough  to  give  up  the  search 
and  come  back.     That's  all  there  is  of  it." 

"But  who  shot  him?" 

"Lambert  and  his  crowd,  and  nobody  else," 
answered  Ned  jDositively.  "If  they  were 
Home  Gruards,  why  were  they  so  careful  that 
their  bullets  should  miss  everyone  except 
the  darky  ?  They  didn'  t  want  to  hurt  the 
soldiers  ;  they  only  wanted  to  send  them  back, 
and  they  took  the  only  method  they  could  to 
do  it." 

"Well,  if  it  was  Lambert,  and  he  is  deter- 
mined to  protect  that  cotton  for  his  own  profit, 
how  am  I  going  to  haul  it  from  the  swamp 
myself  if  I  ever  have  a  chance  to  move  it?" 
demanded  Rodney.  "Will  he  not  be  likely 
to  bushwhack  me  too  ?  " 

"By  gracious  !  "  gasped  Ned,  sinking  back 


102  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

in  his  cliair,  "this  is  a  very  pretty  mess,  I 
must  say,  I  never  once  thought  of  such  a 
thing  ;  but  if  that's  his  game,  he'll  bushwhack 
you  or  anybody  else  who  tries  to  move  that 
cotton.  However,"  he  added  a  moment  later, 
his  face  brightening  as  a  cheering  thought 
passed  through  his  mind,  "what's  the  odds? 
We  are  not  ready  to  move  the  cotton  yet,  and 
until  we  are  let's  take  comfort  in  the  thought 
that  no  one  who  wants  to  steal  it,  be  he  Union 
or  rebel,  will  dare  venture  near  it.  Perhaps 
by  the  time  you  are  ready  to  sell  it,  Lambert 
will  have  been  bushwhacked  himself.  How  do 
you  intend  to  treat  him  from  this  time  on  ?" 

"As  an  enemy  with  whom  I  cannot  afford 
to  be  at  outs,"  replied  Rodney.  "If  he  does 
any  w^ork  for  me  I  shall  pay  him  for  it ;  and 
although  I  shall  not  try  to  put  any  soldiers  on 
his  trail,  I'll  go  into  the  woods  myself  and 
hunt  him  down  like  a  wild  hog  the  minute  I 
become  satisfied  that  he  is  trying  to  play  me 
false.  I  came  to  this  plantation  on  purpose  to 
watch  father's  cotton,  and  I  really  wonder  if 
Lambert  imagines  he  can  spirit  it  away  with- 
out my  knowing  anything  about  it." 


THE  PHANTOM   BUSHWHACKERS.  103 

"It's  the  greatest  scheme  I  ever  heard  of," 
said  Ned.  "But  it  cannot  be  carried  out. 
We've  got  to  go  to  work  in  earnest  now  to  put 
up  the  bacon  and  beef  your  father  promised  to 
give  as  the  price  of  my  exemption,  and  while 
we  are  doing  it,  it  will  be  no  trouble  for  us  to 
keep  an  eye  on  that  cotton." 

Rodney  Gray  afterward  declared  that  work 
and  plenty  of  it  was  all  that  kept  him  alive 
during  the  next  three  months,  and  it  is  a  fact 
that  as  the  year  drew  to  a  close,  with  anything 
but  encouraging  prospects  for  the  ultimate 
success  of  the  Union  forces  in  the  field,  Rod- 
ney's spirits  fell  to  zero.  Although  he  never 
confessed  it  to.  Ned  Griffin,  the  latter  knew,  as 
well  as  he  knew  anything,  that  all  Rodney's 
hopes  and  his  father's  were  centred  on  the 
speedy  putting  down  of  the  rebellion,  but  just 
now  it  looked  as  though  that  was  going  to  be 
a  hard,  if  not  an  impossible,  thing  to  do. 
"Burnside's  repulse  at  Fredericksburg  in  the 
East  had  its  Western  counterpart  in  Sher- 
man's defeat  on  the  Yazoo,  and  indeed  the 
whole  year  presented  no  grand  results  in  favor 
of  the  national  armies  except  the  capture  of 


104  SAILOR   JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

New  Orleans."  But  if  Rodney  had  only 
known  it,  some  things,  many  of  Avhich  took 
place  hundreds  of  miles  away  and  on  deep 
water,  were  slowly  but  surely  working  together 
for  his  good.  He  knew  that  General  Banlis 
had  relieved  General  Butler  in  command  of 
the  Department  of  the  Gulf ;  that  he  had  an 
army  of  thirty  thousand  men  and  a  fleet  >of 
fifty-one  vessels  under  his  command  ;  that  his 
object  in  coming  was  to  "regulate  the  civil 
government  of  Louisiana,  to  direct  the  mili- 
tary movements  against  the  rebellion  in  that 
State  and  in  Texas,  and  to  co-operate  in  the 
opening  of  the  Mississippi  by  the  reduction  of 
Port  Hudson,"  which  was  on  the  east  bank  of 
the  river  twenty-five  miles  above  Baton  Rouge. 
As  he  straightway  made  the  latter  place  his 
base  of  operations,  and  gradually  brought 
there  an  army  of  twenty-five  thousand  men, 
Mooreville  and  all  the  surrounding  country 
came  Avithin  his  grasp.  Major  Morgan  and 
his  fifty  veterans  took  a  hasty  leave.  Camp 
Pinckney  was  abandoned,  and  Confederate 
scouting  parties  were  seldom  seen  at  Rodney's 
plantation  and  Ned's,  although  it  was  an  every- 


THE  PHANTOM   BUSHWHACKERS.  105 

day  occurrence  for  companies  of  blue-coats  to 
stop  at  one  place  or  the  other  and  make 
inquiries  about  the  "Johnnies"  that  were 
supposed  to  be  lurking  in  the  neighborhood. 
They  never  said  "cotton"  once,  and  this  led 
Ned  Griffin  to  remark  that  perhaps  the  new 
general  had  driven  the  speculators  away  from 
Baton  Rouge  and  did  not  intend  to  allow  any 
trading  in  his  department. 

"Don't  say  that  out  loud,  or  you  will  give 
me  tlie  blues  again!"  exclaimed  Rodney. 
"If  it  gets  to  Lambert's  ears,  good-by  cotton." 

"I  didn't  think  of  that,"  answered  Ned, 
frightened  at  the  bare  suggestion  of  such  a 
misfortune,  "It  will  be  much  more  to  our 
interest  to  make  Lambert  believe,  if  we  can, 
that  traders  will  be  thicker  than  dewberries 
the  minute  Port  Hudson  and  Vicksburg  are 
taken.  That  will  make  him  hold  his  hand  if 
anything  will." 

As  to  Lambert,  he  "showed  up"  as  often 
as  he  stood  in  need  of  any  supplies,  and  some- 
times loitered  about  for  half  a  day,  as  if  wait- 
ing for  the  boys  to  question  him  concerning  a 
matter  that,  for  reasons  of  his  own,  he  did  not 


106  SAILOK  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

care  to  touch  upon  himself.  He  would  have 
given  something  to  know  what  they  thought 
of  the  "phantom  bushwhackers"  and  their 
methods,  but  Rodney  and  Ned  never  said  a 
word  to  him  about  it.  The  negro  guide,  who 
was  more  frightened  than  hurt,  quickly  recov- 
ered from  his  injuries,  and  within  a  day  or 
two  after  he  was  taken  to  his  master's  house 
ran  away  to  the  freedom  he  knew  was  await- 
ing him  in  Baton  Rouge,  and  that  made  one 
less  to  tell  where  the  cotton  was  concealed. 

"I  suppose  the  next  bushwhacker  will  be  a 
fellow  about  my  size,"  was  what  Rodney  often 
said  to  himself.  "I  have  half  a  mind  to 
pounce  on  Lambert  the  next  time  he  comes 
here  and  take  him  to  Baton  Rouge,  but  I 
don't  know  whether  that  would  be  the  best 
thing  to  do  or  not,  and  my  father  can't  advise 
me."  Then  he  would  recall  the  Iron  Duke's 
famous  ejaculation,  and  adapt  it  to  his  own 
circumstances  by  adding,  "Oh,  that  a  Union 
man  or  the  end  would  come !  " 

Since  he  was  so  positive  that  a  Union  man 
was  the  friend  he  needed,  it  would  seem  that 
Rodney  ought  not  to  have  been  at  a  loss  to 


THE   PHANTOM   BUSHWHACKERS.  107 

find  him  right  there  in  the  settlement.  If 
there  were  any  faith  to  be  put  in  what  he  saw 
and  heard  every  time  he  went  to  Mooreville 
and  Baton  Rouge,  there  were  no  other  sort  of 
men  in  the  country — not  one  who  had  ever 
been  a  Confederate  or  expressed  the  least 
sympathy  for  those  who  openly  advocated 
secession.  According  to  their  own  story, 
scraps  of  which  came  to  Rodney's  ears  now 
and  then,  Mr.  Randolph  and  Tom  had  done 
little  but  talk  down  secession  and  stand  up 
for  the  Union  ever  since  Fort  Sumter  was 
fired  upon,  and  Mr.  Biglin,  the  red-hot  rebel 
who  put  the  bloodhounds  on  the  trail  of  the 
escaped  j)risoners  Rodney  was  guiding  to  the 
river,  declared  that  his  well-known  love  for 
the  old  fiag  had  nearly  cost  him  his  life.  He 
was  glad  to  see  Banks'  army  in  Baton  Rouge, 
he  said,  for  now  he  could  speak  his  honest 
sentiments  without  having  his  sleep  disturbed 
by  the  fear  that  his  rebel  neighbors  would 
break  into  his  house  before  morning  and  hang 
him  to  the  plates  of  his  own  gallery.  The 
country  was  full  of  cowardly,  hypocritical 
men   like   these,  and   what  troubled   Rodney 


108  SAILOK  JACK,  THE  TRADER.      • 

and  Ned  more  than  anything  else  was  the  fact 
that  they  seemed  to  have  more  influence  and 
be  on  closer  terms  with  the  Federals  than  did 
the  honest  rebels  who  had  ceased  to  fight 
because  they  knew  they  were  whipped.  Rod- 
ney's friend,  Mr.  Martin,  who  lived  in  Baton 
Rouge  and  kept  a  sharp  eye  on  these  "con- 
verted rebels,"  whose  hatred  for  the  Union 
and  everybody  who  believed  in  it  was  as 
intense  and  bitter  as  it  had  ever  been,  told 
him  that  Mr.  Biglin  and  others  like  him  were 
using  every  means  in  their  power  and  making 
all  sorts  of  false  affidavits  to  secure  trade  per- 
mits, and  seemed  in  a  fair  way  to  get  them 
too.  Indeed,  so  certain  were  they  that  they 
would  succeed  in  their  efforts,  that  they  were 
going  out  some  day  to  look  at  the  cotton  in 
the  Mooreville  district,  and  see  what  the  pros- 
pects were  for  hauling  it  out.  They  were  even 
engaging  teams  to  do  the  work.  They  were 
not  to  have  military  protection,  Mr.  Martin 
said,  but  that  was  scarcely  necessary,  for  the 
Union  cavalry  had  swept  the  country  of  Home 
Guards  and  conscript  soldiers  for  a  hundred 
miles  around. 


THE   PHANTOM   BUSHWHACKERS.  109 

"But  the  Union  cavalry  hasn't  cleared  the 
country"  of  the  bushwhackers  who  shot  Mr. 
Randall's  nigger,"  said  Ned  Griffin,  who 
always  had  a  cheering  word  to  say  when  Rod- 
ney was  the  most  disheartened.  "If  Mr. 
Martin's  story  is  true,  I  hope  Biglin  will  come 
himself  and  give  them  a  fair  chance  at  him." 

And  Mr.  Biglin  did  come  himself,  although 
Rodney  thought  he  was  too  much  of  a  coward 
to  venture  so  far  into  the  country.  He  and 
half  a  dozen  other  civilians  rode  into  the  yard 
one  day  and  asked  Rodney  for  a  drink  of 
water,  but  that  was  only  done  to  give  them  a 
chance  to  draw  from  him  a  little  information 
about  cotton.  Rodney  greeted  them  in  as 
friendly  a  manner  as  he  thought  the  occasion 
called  for,  and  conducted  them  around  the 
house   to  the  well. 

"I  tell  you  it  seems  good  to  get  out  in  the 
fresh  air  once  more,  and  to  know  that  wdiile 
here  I  am  in  no  danger  of  being  gobbled  ui3  by 
a  conscript  officer  and  hustled  away  to  fight 
under  a  flag  I  have  always  despised,"  said  Mr. 
Biglin,  putting  his  hands  into  his  pockets  and 
walking  up  and  down  in  front  of  the    well. 


110  SAILOE   JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

"So  you  have  turned  overseer,  have  you, 
Rodney?" 

"I  believe  that  was  what  I  told  you  on  the 
day  I  saw  you  in  Mr.  Turnbull's  front  yard," 
was  the  answer.  "I  mean  just  before  that 
darky  of  yours  came  up " 

"Yes,  yes  ;  I  remember  all  about  it  now,"  said 
Mr.  Biglin  hastily.  And  then  he  tried  to  turn 
the  conversation  into  another  channel,  for  fear 
that  Rodney  would  go  on  to  tell  that  the  infor- 
mation that  darky  brought  was  what  caused 
Mr.  Biglin  to  j)ut  the  hounds  on  the  trail  of  the 
escaped  Union  prisoners.  "Fine  place  you 
have  here.  A  little  rough,  of  course,  but  it's 
new  yet.  And  I  presume  it  suits  you,  for,  if  I 
remember  rightly,  you  always  were  fond  of 
shooting  and  riding  to  the  hounds.  Have  you 
any  cotton  ? " 

"Not  a  bale.     Not  a  pound." 

Mr.  Biglin  looked  surprised,  and  so  did  his 
companions.  The  former  looked  hard  at  the 
boy  for  a  moment,  and  then  changed  the  form 
of  his  inquiry. 

"Oh,  ah!"  said  he.  "Has  your  father 
got  any? " 


THE  PHANTOM   BUSHWHACKERS,  111 

"Perhaps  you  had  better  go  and  ask  him," 
replied  Rodney. 

"That's  just  what  we  did  not  more  than  an 
hour  ago,  but  he  wouldn't  give  us  any  satis- 
faction." 

"Then  you  have  good  cheek  to  come  here 
expecting  me  to  give  you  any,"  said  the  young 
overseer,  growing  angry.  "  My  father  is  quite 
competent  to  attend  to  his  own  business." 

"I  suppose  he  is.  Why,  yes  ;  of  course; 
but  what's  the  use  of  cutting  off  your  nose  to 
spite  your  face  ?  We  know  you  have  cotton 
and  plenty  of  it ;  and  since  you  can't  sell  it 
yourselves ' ' 

"  Why  can't  we  ?  "  interposed  Rodney. 

Mr.  Biglin  acted  as  though  he  had  no  pa- 
tience with  one  who  could  ask  so  foolish  a 
question. 

"  Because  of  your  secession  record,"  said  he. 
"Youweie  in  the  Southern  army,  and  your 
father  is   a  rebel." 

"So  are  you,"   said  Rodney  bluntly. 

"I  may  have  appeared  to  be  at  times  in 
order  to  save  my  life,  but  I  never  was  a  seces- 
sionist at  heart,"  said  Mr.  Biglin  loftily.     "I 


112  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

don't  care  who  hears  me  say  it,  I  am  for  the 
Union  now  and  forever,  one  and — and  undi- 
vided. And  General  Banks'  provost  marshal, 
or  whatever  you  call  him,  knows  it." 

"If  he  believes  it,  he  is  the  biggest  dunder- 
head in  the  world  and  isn't  fit  for  the  position 
he  holds,"  exclaimed  Rodney.  "  I  know  you 
to  be  a  vindictive,  red-hot  rebel,  and  since 
things  have  turned  out  as  they  have,  I  am 
sorry  I  did  not  tell  the  — th  Michigan's  boys 
that  you  i)ut  the  hounds  on " 

"I  never  did  it  in  this  wide  world,"  pro- 
tested Mr.  Biglin,  trying  to  look  astonished, 
but   turning  white  instead. 

"  Never  did  what  ?  "  inquired  Rodney. 

"Put  hounds  on  anybody's  trail.  You  had 
better  be  careful  what  you  say." 

"  You  don't  show  your  usual  good  sense  in 
talking  that  way,"  said  one  of  the  civilians. 
"Our  friend  has  influence  enough  to  make  you 
suffer  for  it  if  he  feels  so  inclined." 

"And  I  had  influence  enough  to  make  his 
house  a  heap  of  ashes  long  ago  if  I  had  felt 
like  it,"  retorted  Rodney.  "I  can  prove  every 
word  I  say  any  day  and  shall  be  glad  of  the 


THE   PHATSTTOM   BUSHWHACKERS.  113 

chance."  And  then  he  wondered  what  he 
would  do  if  his  visitors  should  take  him  at  his 
word.  He  knew  that  he  could  not  prove  his 
assertions  without  mentioning  the  name  of 
Mrs.  Tarnbull,  and  that  was  something  he 
could  not  be  made  to  do  until  he  had  her 
full  and  free  consent. 

"You  are  quite  at  liberty  to  tell  what  you 
know  about  me  and  my  record  during  this 
war,"  observed  Mr.  Biglin,  as  he  swung  him- 
self upon  his  horse  and  turned  the  animal's 
head  toward  the  bars,  "and  you  may  ^a?;d  to 
tell  it,  whether  you  want  to  or  not." 

With  this  parting  shot,  which  he  hoi)ed 
would  leave  Rodney  in  a  very  uncomfortable 
frame  of  mind,  Mr.  Biglin  rode  away,  followed 
by  his  friends,  and  passing  through  the  bars 
turned  up  the  road  leading  toward  the  swamp 
in  which  Mr.  Gray's  cotton  Avas  concealed. 
No  sooner  had  they  disappeared  than  Ned 
Griffin,  who  was  always  on  the  watch  and 
knew  when  Rodney  had  visitors  he  did  not 
want  to  see,  threw  down  the  bars  and  rode 
into  the  yard. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  COTTON   THIEVES. 

"  ~VTTHO  are  those  men,  and  what  did  they 
V  V  want?"  inquired  Ned,  as  he  got  off 
his  horse  at  the  foot  of  the  steps.  "Are  they 
cotton  traders  ?" 

"I  wish  I  hadn't  gone  at  them  quite  so 
rough,"  replied  Rodney.  "You  know  what  a 
red-hot  rebel  Biglin  has  always  been,  don't 
you?" 

' '  I  should  say  so.  If  he  could  have  his  way 
he'd  hang  every  Union  man  in  the  country." 

"Well,  he  had  the  impudence  to  declare  in 
my  presence,  not  more  than  five  minutes  ago, 
that  he'd  always  been  strong  for  the  Union  and 
dead  against  secession,  and  it  made  me  so  in- 
dignant that  I  said  things  which  drove  him 
away  before  he  had  time  to  make  his  business 
known.  But  he  told  me  he  had  questioned 
my  father  about  cotton  and  got  no  satis- 
faction." 

114 


THE   COTTON   THIEVES.  115 

"And  did  he  think  you  would  give  it  to  him 
when  your  father  would  not?"  demanded 
N'ed. 

"He  and  his  friends  seemed  to  think  so,  but 
I  gave  them  to  understand — Great  Scott !  " 

"Hallo!  What's  come  over  you  all  on  a 
sudden?"  exclaimed  ISTed,  as  Rodney  jumped 
to  his  feet  and  gazed  anxiously  up  the  road  in 
the  direction  in  which  Mr.  Biglin  and  his  party 
had  just  disappeared. 

"  Who  knows  but  I  have  let  them  go  to  their 
death?"  answered  Rodney.  "They  don't 
know  that  one  party  who  tried  to  find  that  cot- 
ton was  fired  upon  in  the  woods,  and  I  was  so 
provoked  at  Biglin  that  I  forgot  to  tell  them." 

"W-h-e-w!"  whistled  Ned.  "I  never 
thought  of  it  either.  Well,  let  them  go  on 
and  find  it  out  for  themselves.  They  wouldn't 
have  believed  you  if  you  had  told  them.  They 
would  have  said  right  away  that  you  were 
trying  to  keep  them  out  of  the  woods,  and  that 
would  have  made  them  all  the  more  determined 
to  go  in.  I  should  be  sorry  to  see  any  of  them 
shot,  but  now  that  I  am  here  I'm  going  to  stay 
with  you  and  see  the  thing  out." 


116  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

Nothing  could  have  suited  Rodney  Gray 
better.  He  was  lonely  and  depressed  and  felt 
the  need  of  cheerful  company,  so  he  went  with 
Ned  when  the  latter  turned  his  horse  into  the 
stable-yard,  and  repeated  to  him  every  Avord 
of  the  conversation  that  took  XDlace  while  Mr. 
Biglin  and  his  friends  were  at  the  well. 

"There's  just  one  thing  about  it,"  said  Ned, 
when  he  had  heard  the  story.  "If  Biglin 
hasn't  already  got  a  permit  to  trade  he  is  cer- 
tain as  he  can  be  that  he's  going  to  have  it, 
and  that's  what  brought  him  out  here.  Biit  I 
can't  imagine  what  he  meant  when  he  said  you 
might  be  obliged  to  tell  what  you  know  about 
him  and  his  record." 

"No  more  can  I,  but  I  should  be  glad  to  do 
it  if  it  were  not  for  bringing  Mrs.  Turnbull's 
name  into  the  muss.  Has  Biglin  got  any 
money,  do  you  think,  or  does  he  intend  to 
pay  for  his  cotton  ia  promises?  If  I  were  in 
father's  place  I  would  not  take  his  note  for  a 
picayune,  for  there's  no  telling  where  Biglin 
will  be  at   the   close   of  the   war." 

"That's  so,"  assented  Ned.  "But  we'll 
not  worry  about  money  until  we  see  some  in 


THE   COTTON   THIEVES.  .  117 

prospect,  will  we?     We  haven't  lost  the  cotton 

yet." 

And  they  didn't  lose  it  that  day  and  neither 
did  Mr.  Biglin  and  his  party  lind  it,  for  the 
very  thing  happened  that  Rodney  was  afraid 
of.  He  and  Ned  sat  on  the  porch  for  an  hour 
or  more,  conversing  in  low  tones  and  waiting  for 
and  dreading  something,  they  could  scarcely 
have  told  what,  when  the  clatter  of  hoofs  up 
the  road  set  the  hounds'  tongues  in  motion 
and  took  them  out  to  the  bars  in  a  body.  It 
took  Rodney  and  Ned  out  there  too,  and  when 
they  gained  the  middle  of  the  road  they  saw 
three  horses  bearing  down  upon  them  with 
their  bridles  and  stirrups  flying  loose  in  the 
wind  and  their  saddles  empty.  A  little  farther 
up  the  highway  were  a  couple  of  mounted  men, 
who  were  bending  low  over  the  j)ommels  of 
their  saddles,  plying  their  whips  as  rapidly  as 
they  could  make  their  arms  move  up  and  down, 
and  a  few  rods  behind  them  were  two  more 
riderless  horses.  Both  men  and  animals  ap- 
peared to  be  frightened  out  of  their  senses. 
The  leading  horses  would  not  stop,  but  dashed 
frantically  into   the  bushes  by  the  roadside 


118  SAILOPw  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

rather  tlian  permit  the  two  boys  to  capture 
them,  and  the  men,  as  well  as  the  horses  that 
brought  lip  the  rear,  went  by  like  the  wind, 
and  without  in  the  least  slackening  their  head- 
long flight. 

"Well,  I  do  think  in  my  soul!  What's 
up?"  whispered  Ned,  who  had  dodged  nim- 
bly out  of  the  road  to  escape  being  run  down. 

"There  were  seven  in  the  party,  and  only 
two  have  returned,"  murmured  Rodney. 

"They  must  have  seen  something  dreadful 
in  there,"  faltered  Ned. 

"Beyond  a  doubt  they  have  been  fired 
upon,  but  I  don't  believe  they  saw  anything," 
answered  Rodney.  "  They  heard  the  whistle 
of  bullets  and  buckshot,  most  likely,  and  it 
scared  them  half  to  death.  Come  on.  Let's 
hurry.' ' 

"Where  are  you  going?"  demanded  Ned, 
as  Rodney  turned  about  and  ran  toward  the 
house. 

"  After  my  horse.  There  are  five  men  miss- 
ing, and  it  may  be  that  some  of  them  were 
shot.  And  even  if  they  were  unhorsed  and 
not  hurt  at  all,  they  need  help  if  they  are  as 


THE   COTTON  THIEVES.  119 

badly  frightened  as  the  two  that  just  went 
by." 

Not  being  a  soldier,  Ned  Griffin  was  in  no 
haste  to  ride  into  a  dark  swamp  to  brave  an 
invisible  bushwhacker,  who  might  be  as  ready 
to  shoot  him  as  anybody  else,  but  when  Rod- 
ney broke  into  a  run  and  started  for  the  stable- 
yard,  he  kept  close  at  his  heels.  The  two 
saddled  their  horses  with  all  haste,  and  with 
the  eager  and  excited  hounds  for  a  body- 
guard, rode  through  the  bars  just  in  time  to 
meet  the  two  survivors  of  Mr.  Biglin's  party, 
who  had  at  last  found  courage  enough  to  stop 
their  frantic  steeds  and  come  back. 

"  O  Rodney  ;  this  is  an  awful  day  for  ns  !  " 
cried  one  of  the  frightened  men.  "I  wish  we 
had  never  heard  of  that  cotton." 

"  The  cotton  is  all  right  if  you  will  keep 
your  thievish  hands  off  from  it,"  replied  Rod- 
ney. "What's  the  matter  with  you,  and 
where  are  Mr.  Biglin  and  the  rest  ?  " 

"Dead  or  prisoners,  the  last  one  of  them. 
There's  a  whole  regiment  in  there,  and  they 
opened  on  us  before  we  had  left  the  road  half 
a  mile  behind." 


120  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TEADER. 

"  A  whole  regiment  of  what  ?  " 

"  Indians,  judging  by  the  way  they  yelled, 
though  I  suppose  they  were  Yankee  soldiers 
out  on  a  scout." 

"  Not  much  I  "  exclaimed  Rodney. 

"  How  do  you  know  what  they  Avere  ?  You 
didn't  see  them." 

"Did  you?" 

"Well,  no;  but  I  heard  them  yell,  and  I 
heard  their  bullets  singing,  too.  The  swamp 
is  full  of  them." 

"If  they  were  Federal  scouts  you  would 
have  seen  them,"  said  Rodney,  "They  would 
have  closed  around  you  before  you  had  a 
chance  to  draw  the  revolver  I  see  sticking  out 
of  your  coat  pocket." 

"It's  empty,"  said  the  man,  producing  the 
weapon.  "I  never  Avas  in  a  light  before  and 
never  want  to  be  again  ;  but  I  tried  to  give 
them  as  good  as  they  sent." 

"If  you  did  not  see  any  of  the  attacking 
party,  what  did  you  shoot  at  ?  " 

"I  fired  in  the  direction  from  which  the 
yells  sounded,  and  so  did  all  of  us.  As  for 
the  bullets,  you  couldn't  tell  which  way  they 


THE   COTTON   THIEVES.  121 

came  from,  for  they  clipped  the  trees  on  all 
sides.     Where  are  you  and  Griffin  going?" 

"Into  the  swamp  to  see  if  we  can  be  of  use 
to  anybody." 

"I  really  wish  you  would,  for  I  wouldn't 
dare  go  back  there  myself.  If  they  were  not 
Yankees,  who  were  they  ?  " 

"Didn't  you  just  tell  me  that  I  wasn't 
there  1 ' '  asked  Rodney. 

"But  all  the  same  you  have  a  pretty  good 
idea  who  they  were,  and  you  don't  want  to 
bring  yourself  into  trouble  by  shielding 
them." 

"I  am  not  trying  to  shield  anybody," 
answered  Rodney, 

"  Do  you  think  they  were  citizens  avIio  tried 
to  kill  us  because  they  didn'  t  want  us  to  find 
their  cotton  1 "  inquired  the  second  man,  who 
had  not  spoken  before. 

"If  you  had  a  fortune  hidden  out  there  in 
the  woods,  would  you  let  anybod}^  steal  it  from 
you  if  you  could  help  it?"  asked  Rodney  in 
reply.     "  I  don't  think  you  would." 

"  But  we  expect  every  day  to  get  a  permit 
to   trade  in   cotton,"  said   the  first  speaker, 


122  SAILOR   JACK,  THK  TKADER. 

"  and  that  will  give  us  license  to  take  it  wher- 
ever we  can  find  it." 

"  I  reckon  not,"  said  the  boy  hotly.  "  Gen- 
eral Banks  has  a  right  to  order  his  soldiers  to 
take  cotton  or  anything  else  for  the  benefit  of 
his  government  or  to  cripple  the  Confederacy, 
but  he  has  no  shadow  of  a  right  to  license 
stealing  by  civilians,  and  I  don't  think  he  will 
do  it.  If  he  does,  there  will  be  some  of  the 
liveliest  fighting  around  here  he  ever  heard 
of." 

"If  I  thought  those  villains  in  there  were 
citizens  I'd " 

"You'd  what?"  said  Rodney,  when  the 
man  paused  and  looked  at  his  companion. 
"Do  you  want  to  kick  up  another  civil  war 
right  here  in  your  own  neighborhood  ?  Both 
of  you  own  i:)roperty,  and  if  you  desire  to  save 
it  you  will  take  care  what  you  do.  If  you 
will  go  into  the  house  and  sit  down  for  an  hour 
or  two  we  may  be  back  with  news  of  your 
friends." 

"I'll  not  do  it,"  rei^lied  the  man,  who  had 
not  yet  recovered  from  his  fright,  "for  there's 
no  telling  how  soon  those  ruffians  may  come 


THE   COTTON   THIEVES.  123 

this  way.  I  will  ride  into  Baton  Rouge  and 
send  some  soldiers  out  here." 

So  saying  lie  and  liis  companion  wheeled 
their  horses  and  galloped  away,  and  the  two 
boys  rode  on  toward  the  swamp. 

"  Now  look  at  you  !  "  said  Ned,  when  they 
were  once  more  alone.  "  You  have  leaved  the 
way  for  the  neatest  kind  of  a  fuss.  Did  you 
notice  what  Mr.  Louden  said  about  sending 
soldiers  out  here  ? ' ' 

"I  did  ;  but  when  he  tries  it  I  think  he'll 
find  he  has  not  been  hired  to  take  the  com- 
mand of  the  Department  of  the  Gulf  out  of 
the  hands  of  General  Banks.  If  Banks  is 
anything  like  the  generals  I  have  served  under 
he'll  not  take  suggestions  from  anybody,  much 
less  a  civilian.  I  told  the  truth  when  I  hinted 
that  that  cotton  might  have  been  protected 
by  citizens,  for  that  is  what  Lambert  and  his 
gang  are." 

"  But  Louden  thought  you  meant  planters," 
urged  Ned. 

"I  can't  help  what  he  thought;  and  I 
noticed,  too,  that  he  suspected  me  of  shielding 
the  bushwhackers,  because  I  would  not  tell  who 


124  SAILOR   JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

tliey  were.  Oil,  I  know  we  shall  see  fun 
before  we  hear  tlie  last  of  that  cotton,  but 
we'll   hold  fast  to   it  as   long  as   we  can." 

The  boys  rode  rapidly  while  they  talked, 
and  in  a  few  minutes  turned  off  the  road  and 
plunged  into  the  tangled  recesses  of  as  gloomy 
a  i^iece  of  timber  as  could  have  been  found 
anywhere — just  the  finest  place  in  the  world 
for  an  ambuscade,  as  Rodney  remarked  when 
he  led  the  w^ay  into  it.  They  could  not  see 
ten  feet  in  any  direction,  but  they  heard  some- 
thing before  they  had  gone  a  mile  into  the 
swamp..  The  hounds  gave  tongue  savagely 
and  dashed  away  in  a  body,  a  wild  shriek  of 
terror  arose  from  a  thicket  close  in  front  of 
Rodney's  horse,  and  in  the  next  instant  up 
bobbed  Mr.  Biglin.  But  he  didn'  t  show  any 
of  the  courage  of  which  he  had  boasted.  His 
face  was  very  white,  and  his  empty  hands  were 
held  high  above  his  head.  He  had  as  fair  a 
view  of  Rodney's  face  ns  he  ever  had  in  his 
life,  but  was  so  badly  frightened  that  he  did 
not  recognize  him. 

"  Don't  you  see  that  I  surrender  ? "  he  yelled. 
*' Call  off  your  bloodhounds." 


THE   COTTON   THIEVES.  125 

"All  right,"  said  the  boy,  Avho  rather  en- 
joyed the  spectacle.  "The  dogs  won't  hurt 
you.  Come  out  of  the  bushes  and  tell  us  all 
about  it." 

"  O  Rodney,  is  that  you?"  exclaimed  Mr. 
Biglin,  bat  he  wasn't  quite  sure  of  it,  and 
didn't  think  it  safe  to  lower  his  uplifted 
hands.  "Where  are  they?  They  have  been 
beating  the  woods  in  every  direction  to  find 
me." 

"They?    Who?" 

"I  am  sure  I  don't  know,  but  there's  a  regi- 
ment of  them.  They  shot  down  every  horse 
in  the  party  before  we  knew  there  was  danger 
near,  and  then  set  out  to  hunt  us  at  their 
leisure.  Have  you  seen  them  ?  Where  are 
they  now? " 

"  Come  out  and  tell  us  where  the  other  four 
are,"  said  Rodney,  who  had  by  this  time  sat- 
isfied himself  that  Mr.  Biglin  had  escaped 
uninjured.  "Your  horses  are  all  right,  and 
so  are  Miles  and  Louden.  'Ned  and  I  had  a 
short  talk  with  them  not  more  than  an  hour 
ago." 

"  I  am  surprised  to  hear  it,"  said  Mr.  Big- 


126  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

lin,  with  a  long-drawn  sigli  of  relief.  "I  was 
sure  they  had  all  been  killed."  He  put  down 
his  hands  and  came  out  of  his  concealment  as 
he  spoke,  but  he  stepped  cautiously  as  if 
afraid  of  making  a  noise,  and  cast  timid 
glances  on  all  sides  of  him.  "It's  just  awful 
to  be  shot  at  in  that  cold-blooded  way,  isn't 
it?  I  don't  see  how  you  stood  it  so  long  in 
the  army." 

"  Do  you  imagine  that  I  stayed  there  and 
let  the  Yanks  pop  at  me  because  I  thought  it 
was  funny  ?  "  demanded  Rodney.  "  I  stayed 
so  long  for  the  reason  that  I  couldn't  help  my- 
self. Miles  and  Louden  have  gone  on  to  the 
city,  and  I  reckon  your  horses  must  be  there 
by  this  time  if  they  kept  on  running." 

"  And  did  the  horses  escape  also  ? "  said  Mr. 
Biglin,  who  looked  as  though  he  didn't  know 
whetlier  to  believe  it  or  not.  "It's  really 
wonderful  how   any  of   ns   came   out  alive." 

Instead  of  replying  Rodney  threw  back  his 
head  and  shouted  "  Hey-youp  !  "  so  loudly 
that  the   Avoods   rang  with   the   sound. 

"  What  made  you  do  that  ?  "  said  Mr.  Big- 
lin in  a  frightened  whisx)er,  at  the  same  time 


THE   COTTOIT   THIEVES.  127 

backing  toward  tlie  thicket  from  which  he  had 
just  emerged.  "Do  you  want  to  show  the 
enemy  where   we   are  ? ' ' 

"No;  but  I  want  to  let  your  four  friends 
know  where   we   are." 

He  raised  his  war-whoop  a  second  time,  fol- 
lowing it  up  by  calling  out  the  names  of  the 
missing  men  and  telling  them  to  come  on,  for 
there  was  nothing  to  be  afraid  of.  There  Avas 
a  long  silence — so  long  that  Rodney  began  to 
fear  the  party  had  become  widely  separated 
during  the  hurried  stampede  of  its  members  ; 
but  after  a  while  a  faint  answering  shout  came 
to  his  ears,  then  another  and  another,  and 
finally  he  could  hear  the  missing  men  making 
their  way  through  the  bushes  in  his  direction. 
When  they  came  up  it  was  found  that  not  one 
of  them  had  been  injured  by  the  shower  of 
bullets  which  had  whistled  about  their  ears 
thicker  than  any  hailstones  they  ever  saw,  but 
they  were  all  pale  and  nervous,  and  begged 
Rodney  and  Ned  to  take  them  out  of  the 
woods  by  the  shortest  and  easiest  route.  See- 
ing that  two  of  them  were  almost  ready  to 
drop  with  fear  or  exhaustion,  the  boys  gave 


128  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

them  their  horses  and  led  the  way  on  foot. 
Not  a  word  was  said  until  they  found  them- 
selves safe  in  the  road,  and  then  Mr.  Biglin 
recovered  his  courage  and  the  use  of  his 
tongue. 

"  Quite  a  thrilling  experience  for  men  who 
do  not  claim  to  be  fighters,"  said  he,  taking 
off  his  hat  and  wiping  away  the  sweat  which 
stood  on  his  forehead  in  big  drops.  "And 
a  most  wonderful  escape  for  all  of  us.  If  I'd 
had  the  least  suspicion  that  such  a  thing  was 
going  to  happen,  you  wouldn't  have  caught 
me  going  into  that  swamp.  But  the  men  who 
fired  on  us,  whoever  they  are,  must  be  pun- 
ished for  their  audacity.  They  couldn't  have 
been  Union  troops,  for  as  soon  as  we  recovered 
from  the  astonishment  and  panic  into  which 
we  were  thrown  by  their  first  volley,  we 
shouted  to  them  that  we  had  a  permit  from 
General  Banks,  but  it  didn't  do  any  good." 

"It  did  harm,  though,"  remarked  one  of 
his  companions,  "for  I  am  positive  that  their 
yells  grew  louder  and  that  the  bullets  came 
much  thicker  than  before.  Have  you "  boys 
any  idea  who   they  were?" 


THE   COTTON   THIEVES.  129 

This  was  a  question  that  neitlier  of  tliem 
intended  to  answer  if  he  could  help  it.  If 
they  said  what  they  thought,  Mr.  Biglin 
would  carry  their  story  straight  to  the  Federal 
provost  marshal,  or  to  someone  else  in  author- 
ity in  Baton  Rouge,  and  it  might  lead  to  some- 
thing that  would  end  in  bloodshed.  Lambert's 
actions  said  as  plainly  as  words  that  if  he 
couldn't  profit  by  the  sale  of  that  cotton  him- 
self, nobody  else  should  lay  hands  upon  it, 
and  having  driven  away  two  parties  who  had 
tried  to  discover  its  hiding-place,  it  was  barely 
possible  that  he  might  have  gained  courage 
enough  to  resist  soldiers,  if  any  were  sent  into 
the  swamp  to  drive  him  out.  Lambert  was 
showing  himself  a  good  friend  just  now,  how- 
ever disagreeable  and  dangerous  he  might 
prove  to  be  by  and  by,  and  Rodney  did  not 
want  General  Banks  to  send  troopers  after 
him.  When  the  Union  man  he  was  waiting 
for  "  turned  up,"  the  general  might  rid  the 
settlement  of  Lambert's  presence  as  soon  as  he 
pleased. 

"If  I  didn't  know  that  Tom  Randolph's 
company  of  Home  Guards  was  broken  up,  I 
9 


130  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

should  blame  tliem  for  this  day's  work,"  said 
one  of  Mr.  Biglin's  companions. 

"How  do  you  know  the  conij^any  was 
broken   up  ?"  inquired   Rodney. 

"Why,  I  heard  they  were  all  conscripted 
long  ago." 

"That  may  be;  but  they  didn't  all  go  to 
Camp  Pinckney.  Some  of  them  took  to  the 
woods." 

"  But  even  if  they  would  fire  upon  their  old 
friends  and  neighbors,  which  isn't  probable, 
they  have  no  interest  in  protecting  the  cotton 
in  the  swamp,  for  they  don't  own  a  dollar's 
worth   of  it." 

"I  don't  care  who  they  are,"  said  Mr.  Big- 
lin.  "They  will  find  that  the  arm  of  our 
government  is  long  enough  to  reach  them 
wherever  they  hide   themselves." 

'■''Our  government!"  repeated  Rodney. 
"  Which  one  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"There  is  but  one,  young  man,  and  you 
rebels  can't  break  it  up,  try  as  hard  as  you 
will." 

It  made  Rodney  angry  to  hear  Mr.  Biglin 
talk  in  this  strain,  but  before  he  could  frame 


THE   COTTON   THIEVES.  131 

a  suitable  rejoinder  the  planter  switched  him 
off  on  another  track  by  inquiring  : 

"  Now,  how  are  we  to  get  to  the  city  ?  " 

"  I  am  sure  I  don't  know  unless  you  -walk," 
answered  Rodney. 

"Can't  you  raise  five  saddle  nags  on  your 
place?" 

"  No,  sir.  And  if  I  could,  I  wouldn't  let 
them  go  inside  the  Yankee  lines.  I'd  never 
see   them   again." 

"  I  give  you  my  word  that  I  will  take  the 
best  of  care  of  them." 

"  You  couldn't  take  any  sort  of  care  of  them. 
In  less  than  five  minutes  after  you  reached  the 
city  my  horses  would  be  gone,  and  when  you 
found  them  again,  if  you  ever  did,  they  would 
have  some  company's  brand  on  them.  I  know 
what  I  am  talking  about,  for  I  have  been  a 
cavalryman  myself.  I  have  known  regiments 
in  the  same  brigade  to  steal  from  one  another." 

"In  that  case  wouldn't  the  brand  show 
where   the  horse   belonged?" 

"  It  might  if  it  was  let  alone,  but  it  is  easy 
to  change  it.  I  stole  a  horse  from  company  / 
once,  and  when  he  was  found  in  my  possession 


132  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

a  week  or  two  afterward,  tliere  was  my  com- 
pany letter  D  on  liis  flank  as  plain  as  the  nose 
on  your  face." 

"  And  didn't  you  have  to  give  him  up  to  his 
rightful  owner  ? ' ' 

"  Course  not.  I  said  if  he  wasn't  my  horse, 
how  came  that  letter  D  branded  on  him,  and 
that  settled  it.  Won't  you  go  in  and  rest  a 
few  minutes  ? " 

As  Rodney  said  this  he  waved  his  hand  to- 
ward the  house,  Avliose  front  door  stood  invit- 
ingly open,  but  Mr.  Biglin  replied  that  he  did 
not  care  to  sit  down  until  he  was  out  of  sight 
of  the  swamp,  and  beyond  the  reach  of  the  ter- 
rible Home  Guards  who  made  their  hiding- 
place  there.  So  he  and  his  companions  walked 
on,  and  Rodney  and  Ned  turned  into  the  yard. 

"  Our  government !  "  Rodney  said  over  and 
over  again  while  they  were  at  the  well  watering 
their  horses.  "  He'd  give  everything  he's  got 
if  he  could  see  it  broken  up  this  minute." 

"Of  course  he  would,  but  he  and  his  kind 
stand  higher  with  the  Federals  than  you  do," 
replied  Ned.  "Now,  all  we  can  do  is  to  pos- 
sess our   souls  in  patience    and   wait  for   the 


THE   COTTON   THIEVES.  133 

next  act  on  the  programme.  Let's  see  if  Mr. 
Biglin's  government  will  send  soldiers  to  pro- 
tect him  in  his  cotton-stealing." 

It  was  very  easy  for  Ned  to  talk  of  waiting 
patiently,  but  it  was  a  hard  thing  to  do.  He 
and  Rodney  looked  anxiously  for  the  aj^pear- 
ance  of  the  cavalry  that  Mr.  Bigiin  and  one  of 
his  friends  had  threatened  to  send  against  the 
men  who  had  driven  them  from  the  swamp, 
but  they  never  came.  They  saw  and  talked 
with  a  good  many  troopers,  who  drank  all 
the  milk  they  could  find  and  asked  about  the 
Johnnies  that  were  supposed  to  be  '*  snooping 
around"  in  that  part  of  the  country,  but  to 
the  boys'  great  relief  they  did  not  say  a  word 
about  cotton  or  Home  Guards,  and  Rodney 
hoped  he  had  seen  the  last  of  Mr.  Bigiin.  He 
was  ready  to  make  terms  with  a  genuine  Yan- 
kee who  would  offer  him  sixty  cents  a  pound 
for  his  father's  cotton,  but  he  wanted  nothing 
to  do  with  converted  rebels.  He  and  Ned 
made  several  trips  to  the  city,  bringing  out 
each  time  some  things  that  were  not  contra- 
band of  war,  and  some  others  that  would  have 
caused  the  prompt  confiscation  of    his  whole 


134  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADEK. 

wagon  load  if  tliey  bad  been  discovered,  but 
his  friend  Mr.  Martin,  on  whom  he  relied  for 
information  of  every  sort,  could  not  give  him 
any  advice  on  the  subject  that  was  nearest  to 
his  heart. 

"The  city  is  full  of  men  who  are  working 
their  level  best  to  get  permits,"  said  he,  "  but 
I  am  told  it  takes  lots  of  influence  and  a  clean 
record  to  get  them." 

"ThenBiglin  will  never  have  the  handling 
of  my  father's  cotton,"  said  Rodney  with  a 
sigh  of  satisfaction.  "His  record  is  as  bad  as 
mine." 

"Much  worse,"  answered  Mr.  Martin,  "for 
you  never  went  back  on  your  friends  and  be- 
came a  spy  and  informer.  That  is  just  what 
that  man  Biglin  has  done,  but  I  have  reason 
to  think  he  isn't  making  much  at  it.  Some- 
one has  been  telling  true  stories  about  him, 
and  the  provost  marshal  knows  his  history 
like  a  book.  O  Rodney,  why  didn't  you 
keep  out  of  the  rebel  army  and  proclaim  your- 
self a  Union  man  at  the  start,  no  matter 
whether  you  were  or  not.  You  would  have 
plain  sailing  now." 


THE   COTTON  THIEVES.  135 

Rodney  laughed  and  said  it  was  too  late  to 
think  of  that;  and  besides,  why  didn't  Mr. 
Martin  proclaim  himself  a  Union  man  at  the 
start?  Perhaps  he  wouldn't  have  been  so 
closely  watched. 

Rodney  saw  and  talked  with  Lambert  about 
three  times  a  week,  but  the  ex-Home  Guard 
did  not  volunteer  any  information  regarding 
his  doings  in  the  swamp,  and  the  boy  took 
care  not  to  ask  him  for  any.  He  never  in- 
quired how  or  where  the  man  lived,  how  many 
companions  he  had,  whether  or  not  they  ever 
held  communication  with  their  friends  in 
Mooreville— in  fact,  Lambert  more  than  once 
complained  to  Ned  Griffin  that  Rodney  did 
not  seem  to  care  any  more  for  the  conscripts" 
who  were  watching  night  and  day  to  protect 
his  father's  cotton  than  he  did  for  the  wild 
hogs  he  was  shooting  for  his  winter's  supply 
of  bacon.  When  Rodney  first  began  hunting 
these  hogs  it  was  Avith  the  expectation  that 
every  pound  of  meat  he  secured  would  have  to 
be  turned  over  to  tiie  agents  of  the  Confederate 
government  as  the  price  of  Ned  Griffin's  ex- 
emption ;     but   when    General    Banks    began 


136  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

massing  his  army  at  Baton  Ronge  with  a  view 
of  operating  against  Port  Hudson,  and  the 
country  roundabout  had  been  cleared  of  rebel 
soldiers  and  conscript  officers,  Rodney  hadn'  t 
troubled  himself  much  about  the  exemption 
bacon.  He  was  glad  to  believe  he  would  not 
be  called  on  to  pay  it. 

Affairs  went  on  in  a  very  unsatisfactory  way 
until  the  middle  of  February  before  any  event 
that  was  either  exciting  or  interesting  occurred 
to  break  the  monotony,  if  we  except  one  single 
thing — the  Emancipation  Proclamation.  Of 
course  the  news  that  the  slaves  had  been  freed 
created  something  of  an  excitement  at  first, 
especially  among  such  men  as  Lambert  and 
his  outlaws  who  never  had  the  price  of  a  pick- 
aninny in  their  pockets,  but  it  had  little  effect 
upon  Rodney  Gray  and  his  father,  because 
they  had  been  looking  for  it  for  six  months. 
In  September  President  Lincoln  told  the 
Southern  people  very  plainly  that  if  they  did 
not  lay  down  their  |^arms  and  return  to  their 
allegiance  he  would  declare  their  slaves  free, 
and  now  he  had  kept  his  promise.  Rodney 
remembered  how  he  had  laughed  at  his  cousin 


THE   COTTON   THIEVES.  137 

Marcy,  and  liow  angry  he  was  at  him  when  the 
latter  declared  that  if  the  South  tried  to  break 
up  the  government  she  Avoiild  lose  all  her  ne- 
groes, but  now  he  saw  that  Marcy  was  right. 
More  than  that,  he  knew  that  the  North 
had  the  power  and  the  will  to  enforce 
the  proclamation.  Mr.  Martin  gave  him  a 
copy  of  it  and  he  took  it  home  with  him, 
intending  to  read  it  to  his  negroes  ;  but  the 
news  reached  the  plantation  before  he  did,  and 
he  found  the  field-hands  gathered  about  the 
kitchen  waiting  for  him. 

"  Is  Moster  Linkum  done  sot  we  black  ones 
all  free  1 "  they  demanded  in  chorus,  as  Rod- 
ney rode   among   them. 

"Who  told  you  anything  about  it?"  he 
asked,  in  reply. 

"De  cutes'  little  catbird  you  ebber  see  done 
sot  hisself  up  dar  on  de  ridge-pole,  an'  sung  it 
to  we  black  ones,"  answered  the  driver  ;  and 
then  they  all  shouted  and  laughed  at  the  top 
of  their  voices.  "Is  we  free  sure  'nougli?" 
added  the  driver. 

"  That  depends  upon  whether  you  are  or 
not,"  answered  Rodney,  taking  the  proclama- 


138  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

tion  from  his  pocket  and  holding  it  aloft  so 
that  all  could  see  it.  "  In  the  first  place,  who 
owns  this  part  of  Louisiana  right  around  here  ? 
In  whose  possession  is  it  ? " 

"  De  Yankees,  bress  the  Lawd,"  said  the 
negroes,  with  one  voice. 

"Then  you  are  not  free,  and  Mr.  Lincoln 
says  so." 

"  Why,  Moss  Rodney,  please  sar,  how  come 
dat?  "  stammered  the  driver,  and  all  the  black 
faces  around  him  took  on  a  look  of  deep  dis- 
a];)pointment  and  sorrow. 

"I  have  Mr.  Lincoln's  own  words  for  it," 
replied  Rodney.  "This  paper  says,  in  effect, 
that  the  slaves  are  free  in  all  States  in  rebel- 
lion, except  in  such  parts  as  are  held  by  the 
armies  of  the  United  States.  Do  the  Yankees 
around  here  belong  to  the  armies  of  the  United 
States,  and  are  they  holding  this  country — 
this  part  of  the  State  ?  Then  you  will  not  be 
free  until  the  rebels  come  in  and  drive  tliem 
out." 

"O  Lawd!  0  Lawd  !  "  moaned  the  driver. 
' '  Den  we  uns  won' t  nebber  be  free.  Dem 
rebels  won't  luf  us  go." 


THE   COTTON   THIEVES.  139 

"That's  what  I  think,  so  you  had  better  dig 
out  while  you  have  the  chance.  You  are 
bound  to  have  your  freedom  some  day,  and 
you  might  as  well  take  it  now.  Don't  go  off 
like  thieves  in  the  night,  but  come  up  here 
boldly  and  shake  hands  with  me  as  you  would 
if  you  were  going  back  to  the  home  planta- 
tion. And  when  you  get  sick  of  the  Yan- 
kees and  their  ways,  come  back,  and  I  will 
treat  you  as  well  as  I  ever  did.  Bob,  you 
had  better  go  for  one.  You  don't  earn  your 
salt  here." 

This  was  all  Rodney  had  to  say  regarding 
the  Emancipation  Proclamation,  but  it  was 
more  than  his  darkies  bargained  for.  While 
they  were  glad  to  know  that  they  were  free 
men  and  women,  they  were  not  glad  to  see 
Rodney  so  perfectly  willing  to  let  them  go. 
He  didn't  care  a  snap  whether  they  went  or 
stayed,  and  that  made  them  all  the  more 
anxious  to  stay  where  they  were  sure  of  get- 
ting plenty  to  eat  and  clothes  to  wear.  Bob 
and  one  other  worthless  negro  took  Rodney  at 
his  word,  and  left  the  plantation  that  very 
afternoon,  but  they  did  not  go  to  the  house  to 


140  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

bid  Mm  good-by.  TLey  packed  their  bundles 
in  secret,  and  slipped  away  "like  thieves  in 
the  night";  but,  before  they  had  been  gone 
two  hours,  Lambert  marched  them  back  to  the 
bars  at  the  muzzle  of  his  rifle. 


CHAPTER  YI. 

THE  MAN  HE  WANTED  TO   SEE. 

"  "TTTHAT  in  the  world  did  you  bring  those 
V  V  useless  fellows  back  here  for?"  was 
the  way  in  which  Rodney  Gray  welcomed 
Lambert  when  he  marched  the  two  negroes  up 
to  the  porch  Avhere  he  was  sitting.  "  I  Avas  in 
hopes  I  had  seen  the  last  of  them." 

"Why,  dog-gone  it,  they're  yourn,  an'  I 
jest  want  to  see  if  what  they  have  been  tellin' 
me  is  the  truth,"  said  Lambert  in  a  surprised 
tone.  "I  found  'em  pikin'  along  the  high- 
way with  them  packs  onto  their  backs  an'  no 
passes  into  their  pockets " 

"Don't  need  no  x^asses  no  mo',"  interrupted 
Bob  in  a  surly  voice.  "I  am  jes  as  free  as 
you  be,  Mistah  Lambert." 

"Jest  listen  at  the  nigger's  imperdence ! " 
cried  Lambert,  astonished  and  angry  because 
Rodney  did  not  at  once  take  Bob  to  task  for 
his  freedom  of  speech.     "  This  is  what  comes 


142  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

of  havin'  so  many  Yankees  prowlin'  about  the 
country." 

"That's  about  the  size  of  it.  Bob  is  as  free 
as  you  or  I,  and  here  is  the  paper  that  says 
so,"  declared  Rodney,  taking  a  printed  cojDy 
of  the  proclamation  from  his  pocket. 

"  Who  writ  that  there  paper,  an'  where  did 
you  get  it?" 

"The  city  is  flooded  with  copies  of  it,  and 
the  first  scouting  party  that  rides  through  here 
will  scatter  it  right  and  left  among  the  negroes. 
President  Lincoln  wrote  it," 

"  What  right's  he  got  to  do  anything  of  the 
sort  ?     The  niggers  don't  belong  to  him." 

"Well,  he's  done  it,  any  way,  and  you 
and  your  friends  will  have  to  come  out  of 
the  swamp  and  go  to  work  if  you  hope  to  get 
anything  to  eat.  My  father  says  we  can't  help 
ourselves,  and  that's  why  I  talked  to  Bob  and 
the  rest  the  way  I  did  a  while  ago." 

"But  I  aint  agreein'  to  no  such  arrange- 
ment," replied  Lambert,  who  could  scarcely 
have  felt  more  aggrieved  and  insulted  if  he 
had  been  the  largest  slaveholder  in  the  State. 

"  Nobody  asked  my  father  if  he  would  agree 


THE   MATT  HE   WANTED   TO   SEE.  143 

to  it,  either ;  but  he'll  have  to  take  war  as  it 
comes,  and  so  will  you  and  all  of  us.  The 
blacks  are  lost  to  us  and  you  will  have  to  go 
to  work  ;  I  don't  see  any  way  out  of  it.  You 
might  as  well  turn  your  prisoners  loose 
and  let  them  go  among  the  Yanks  if  they 
want  to." 

The  ignorant  Lambert  could  not  yet  under- 
stand the  situation,  for  it  took  him  a  long  time 
to  get  new  things  through  his  head,  and  this 
was  the  first  he  had  heard  of  the  Emancipation 
Proclamation.  He  looked  hard  at  Rodney  to 
see  if  he  was  in  earnest,  then  swung  his 
clubbed  rifle  in  the  air  and  shouted  "Git!" 
at  the  top  of  his  voice  ;  whereupon  the  fright- 
ened darkies  took  to  their  heels  and  disap- 
peared in  an  instant.  But  they  did  not  retreat 
in  the  direction  of  the  road.  They  made  the 
best  of  their  way  to  their  cabins  in  the  quarter 
and  hid  themselves  there.  When  they  were 
out  of  sight  Lambert  put  his  rifle  under  his 
arm  and   pulled   out  his   cob   pipe. 

"I'm  more  of  a  secessioner  now  nor  I  ever 
was  before,"  said  he.  "  We  uns  have  just  got 
to  whop   in    this  war,  kase  if  we  don't  our 


144  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

niggers  will  be  gone,  an'  where' 11 1  get  a  job  of 
overseein'  ?" 

"You'll  never  be  an  overseer  again,"  an- 
swered Rodney.  "You  will  have  to  go  into 
the  field  and  hoe  cotton  and  cane  yourself." 

"Not  by  no  means  I  won't,"  said  Lambert 
fiercely.  "That  there  is  nigger's  work,  an'  I 
can't  seem  to  stoop  to  it.  It  don't  make  no 
sort  of  difference  to  rich  folks  like  you  how  the 
war  ends,  kase  you've  got  cotton,  an'  cotton  is 
money  these  times.     I  aint  got  nary  thing." 

Lambert  watched  Rodney  out  of  the  cor- 
ners of  his  eyes  while  he  was  appl3nng  a 
lighted  match  to  the  tobacco  with  whicli  he 
had  filled  his  pipe,  but  the  boy  had  nothing  to 
say.  He  thought  there  was  a  threat  hidden 
under  Lambert's  last  words. 

"  There's  one  thing  about  it,"  the  latter  con- 
tinued after  a  little  pause,  "  if  we  get  whopped 
I  won't  be  the  only  poor  man  there  is  in 
Louisiany,  tell  your  folks." 

With  this  parting  shot  he  turned  his  mule 
about  and  rode  out  of  the  yard.  And  Rod- 
ney, angry  as  he  was,  let  him  go.  He  knew 
now  just  what  he  had  to  expect  from  the  ex- 


THE   MAN   HE   WANTED   TO   SEE.  145 

Home  Guard,  and  made  the  mental  resolution 
that,  if  his  father  would  consent,  he  would  be 
I)repared  to  make  a  prisoner  of  Lambert  the 
next  time  he  met  him. 

"Something  of  the  sort  must  be  done,  and 
before  long,  too,"  thought  Rodney  when  he 
went  to  bed  that  night,  "or  the  first  thing  we 
know  our  cotton  will  go  the  way  Mr.  Ran- 
dolph's did.  If  the  cotton  was  mine  I  would 
promise  to  hand  Lambert  a  few  hundred  dol- 
lars as  soon  as  it  was  sold,  but  then  he  is  so 
treacherous  I  coukln't  put  any  faith  in  his 
promises.  I  wish  he  had  kept  away  from  here 
to-day.  His  visit  worried  me  more  than  Lin- 
coln's proclamation." 

Rodney  intended  to  go  home  and  lay  the 
matter  before  his  father  as  soon  as  he  had  seen 
the  hands  fairly  at  work  in  the  morning  ;  but 
just  as  he  arose  from  his  breakfast  Mr.  Gray 
rode  into  the  yard,  accompanied  by  a  stranger 
whose  appearance  and  actions  attracted  Rod- 
ney's attention  at  once  and  amused  him  not  a 
little.  He  sat  on  a  bare-back  mule  (Mr.  Gray's 
line  horses  and  saddles  had  disappeared  with 
Breckenridge's  men),  with  his  shoulders 
10 


146  SAILOE  JACK,  THE  TRADER, 

humped  up,  bis  head  drawn  down  between 
them,  his  arms  stiffened  and  his  hands  braced 
firmly  against  the  mule's  withers,  and  his 
broad  back  bent  in  the  form  of  an  arch.  He 
wore  a  blue  flannel  suit,  a  black  slouch  hat,  a 
flowing  neck-handkerchief  tied  low  on  Lis 
breast,  and  finer  shoes  and  stockings  than 
Rodney  himself  had  been  in  the  habit  of  wear- 
ing of  late.  He  had  a  sharp  blue  eye,  a 
bronzed  face,  a  heavy  blond  mustache,  and 
gazed  about  him  with  the  air  of  one  who  might 
know  a  thing  or  two,  even  if  he  didn't  know 
how  to  ride  a  mule  bare-back.  Rodney  hast- 
ened down  the  steps  to  welcome  his  father, 
and  then  looked  inquiringly  at  the  young  man 
in  blue,  who  placed  his  clenched  hands  on  his 
hips  and  stared  hard  at  Rodney. 

"  De  oberseer  he  gib  us  trouble, 
An'  he  dribe  us  round  a  spell  ; 
We'll  lock  him  up  in  de  smokehouse  cellar, 

Wid  de  key  frown  in  de  well. 
De  whip  is  los',  de  hand-cuff  broken, 

An'  ole  moster'll  have  his  pay  ; 
He's  ole  'nough,  big  'nough,  an'  oughter  knowed 
better 
Dan  to  went  an'  run  away," 


THE  MAN   HE  WANTED   TO   SEE.  147 

sang  the  stranger  in  a  melodious  tenor  voice. 
"  Hallo,  Johnny  !  " 

"Hallo,  yourself,"  replied  Rodney.  He 
was  so  astonished  at  this  strange  greeting  that 
Be  did  not  know  what  else  to  say.  He  gazed 
earnestly  at  the  singer,  but  there  was  no  smile 
of  recognition  under  the  blond  mustache, 
though  the  blue  eyes  twinkled  merrily.  Then 
he  looked  toward  his  father  for  an  explana- 
tion, but  that  gentleman,  who  had  by  this 
time  dismounted,  stood  with  his  folded  arms 
resting  on  his  mule's  back,  and  had  not  a  word 
of  exjjlanation  to  offer. 

"  You  are  a  very  nice-looking  rebel,  I  must 
say,"  were  the  visitor's  next  words. 

"I am  aware  of  it,"  returned  Rodney  ;  "but 
they  are  the  best  I've  got  to  my  back." 

"I  was  speaking  of  you  and  not  of  your 
clothes,"  said  the  stranger  hastily.  "My 
good  mother  away  up  in  North  Carolina  long 
ago  taught  me " 

"Jack!  O  Jack!"  shouted  Rodney  joy- 
fully. With  one  jump  he  reached  his  cousin's 
side,  and  seizing  his  outstretched  hand  in  both 
his  own,  fairly  dragged  him  to  the  ground. 


148  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

"Easy,  easy!"  cautioned  Mr.  Gray. 
"That's  Jack,  but  he  isn't  quite  as  sound  as 
he  was  the  last  time  you  met  him." 

"  I  am  overjoyed  to  see  you  after  so  long 
a  sei)aration,"  said  Rodney,  in  some  degre^ 
moderating  the  energy  of  his  hand-shaking. 
"How  did  you  leave  Marcy  and  his  mother  ? 
and  has  Marcy  always  been  true  to  his  colors, 
as  he  so  often  declared  he  would  be,  no  matter 
what  happened  ?  How  came  you  here  when 
nobody  dreamed  of  seeing  you,  and  where 
have   you  been   to   get  hurt?" 

"I  have  been  offsetting  your  work,"  re- 
plied Jack,  rolling  alongside  Rodney,  sailor 
fashion,  as  the  latter  slipped  an  arm  through 
his  own  and  led  him  to  the  porch.  "You 
worked  fifteen  months  to  make  this  unholy 
rebellion  successful,  and  I  worked  sixteen 
months  and  more  to  put  it  down ;  so  you 
might  as  well  have  stayed  at  home  with  your 
mother." 

"Then  you  have  been  at  sea?"  exclaimed 
Rodney. 

"Correct.  There's  where  I  belong,  you 
know.     And   I  heard  in  a  roundabout  way 


THE   MAN   HE   WANTED   TO   SEE.  149 

that  Marcy  has  had  a  brief  experience,  also. 
He  was  pilot  on  one  of  our  gunboats  during 
the  fights  at  Roanoke  Island,  but  where  he  is 
now  I  haven't  the  least  idea.  It  is  a  long 
time  since  I  got  a  word  from  home,"  said  the 
sailor  sadly.  "I  am  on  my  way  there  now, 
and  figuring  to  make  some  money  by  the  trip. 
I  am  dead  broke." 

"Haven't  you  a  discharge  ?  " 
"  A  sort  of  one,  but  nary  cent  of  cash." 
"How  does  that  come?     Why  didn't  your 
paymaster  settle  with   you  when  he  handed 
over  your  discharge  ? ' ' 

"  Well,  the  first  one  couldn't  very  handily, 
because  he  was  captured,  together  with  his 
money  and  accounts ;  and  the  second  one 
couldn't  do  it  either,  for  he  was  captured  too, 
and  his  money  and  books  went  to  the  bottom 
of  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  or  into  the  hands  of 
that  pirate  Semmes,  which  amounts  to  the 
same  thing." 

"Why,  Jack,  what  do  you  mean?  You 
must  have  been   in  a  fight." 

"That  was  what  I  thought  when  I  found 
myself  stranded  on  the  deck  of  a  strange  ship 


150  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

without  a  bag  or  hammock  to  bless  myself 
with,  and  no  mess  number,"  said  Jack,  with 
a  laugh.  "  My  first  vessel,  the  Harriet  Lane^ 
was  captured  at  Galveston  on  New  Year's  Day, 
and  my  second,  the  Hatteras,  was  sunk  on  the 
night  of  the  lltli  by  the  Alabavia.  Yes,  I 
have  been  in  two  or   three  fights." 

"Of  course  we  heard  about  the  two  you 
mention,  but  never  once  thought  of  your  being 
there,"  said  Rodney,     "  Were  you  shot  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no.  I  was  struck  on  the  shoulder  by 
something,  don' t  know  what,  when  the  gun- 
boat Westfield  was  blown  up  by  her  crew  to 
keep  her  from  falling  into  the  hands  of  the 
rebels.  If  I  hadn't  been  a  good  swimmer  I 
should  now  be  rusticating  at  Tyler,  Texas,  or 
some  other  Southern  watering-place." 

"  Well,  now,  take  this  big  chair — you  have 
grown  to  be  a  pretty  good-sized  fellow  since 
I  last  saw  you — and  settle  back  at  your  ease 
and  tell  us  all  about  it,"  said  Rodney. 
"What  do  you  mean  when  you  say  you  are 
figuring  on  making  some  money  this  trip  ? 
And  if  you  are  dead  broke,  where  did  you  get 
that  blue  suit  ?    They  don't  issue  that  style  of 


THE  MAlSr   HE  WANTED   TO   SEE.  151 

clothes  to  the  foremast  hands  in  the  navy,  do 
they  ?     Or  are  you  an  officer  ?  " 

"  One  at  a  time,"  replied  Jack.  "  One  at  a 
time,  and  your  questions  will  last  a  heap 
longer.     I   am   a   trader." 

"O  Jack,"  exclaimed  Rodney,  who  was  all 
excitement  in  a  moment.  "  Then  you  are  just 
the  man  we  are  looking  for.  Have  you  a 
permit  ?  " 

"Well,  I — you  see — that  is  to  say,  no;  I 
haven't." 

"  Then  you  are  not  the  man  we  want  to  see 
at  all,"  said  Rodney  in  a  disappointed  tone. 
"You  can't  trade  without  it." 

"I  am  painfully  aware  of  the  fact.  And 
perhaps  you  wonder  how  I  am  going  to  buy 
cotton  when  I  am  dead  broke,  don't  you?  I 
have  influential  friends  ;  and  thereby  hangs  a 
tale  as  long  as  a  yardarm." 

"Suppose  you  leave  off  bothering  your 
cousin  now  and  go  home  with  us,"  suggested 
Mr.  Gray,  when  he  saw  that  Rodney  was  set- 
tling himself  to  listen  to  a  lengthy  story. 
"We  haven't  seen  you  at  the  house  very 
often  of  late,  and  you  are  almost  as  much  of 


152  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

a  stranger  to  your  mother  as  you  would  be  if 
you  lived  in  Viclisburg.  We  haven't  heard 
all  Jacli's  war  history  yet,  and  perhaps  he 
will  give  it  to  us  to-night  after  supper." 

Rodney  was  glad  to  agree  to  the  proposition, 
and  at  his  request  Ned  Griffin  was  invited  to 
make  one  of  the  party,  for  he  was  sure  to  be 
one  of  the  most  interested  listeners.  In  fact 
the  Grays  had  come  to  look  upon  Ned  as  one 
of  the  family.  Jack's  story  was  not  a  long 
one,  and  you  ought  to  hear  it,  in  order  to 
know  how  he  happened  to  "turn  up"  there 
in  Mooreville  when,  as  Rodney  said,  no  one 
dreamed  of  seeing  him,  and  we  will  tell  it  in 
our  own  way,  leaving  out  a  good  deal  of 
what  Jack  called  "sailor  lingo." 

The  last  time  we  saw  Jack  Gray  was  so  long 
ago  that  you  have  perhaps  forgotten  that  we 
ever  mentioned  his  name.  Instead  of  follow- 
ing in  the  footsteps  of  his  father  and  becoming 
a  planter,  Jack  had  sailed  the  blue  water  from 
his  earliest  boyhood,  and  was  the  elder  brother 
of  our  Union  hero,  Marcy  Gray,  who  was 
taken  from  his  home  at  dead  of  night  by  a 
party  of    blue-jackets   to    serve    as  pilot  on 


THE  MAN   TIE   WANTED   TO   SEE.  153 

Captain  Benton's  gunboat  during  tlie  fight 
at  Roanoke  Island.  Jack  was  Union  all  over, 
and,  even  when  it  was  dangerous  for  liira  to  do 
so,  could  hardly  refrain  from  expressing  his 
contempt  for  those  who  were  trying  to  break 
up  the  government.  When  we  first  brought 
him  to  your  notice  he  had  already  had  some 
thrilling  experience  with  the  enemies  of  the 
flag  under  which  he  had  sailed  all  over  the 
world,  his  vessel,  the  brig  Sabine,  having  been 
one  of  the  first  to  fall  into  the  power  of  the 
Confederate  cruiser  Sumter. 

If  you  have  read  "Marcy,  the  Blockade- 
Runner,"  you  will  remember  that  the  Sabine 
was  under  the  command  of  men  who  did  not 
intend  to  remain  prisoners  a  minute  longer 
than  they  were  obliged  to  ;  that  the  rebel  ban- 
ner had  no  sooner  been  hoisted  at  the  peak 
in  the  place  of  their  own  flag,  than  they  began 
laying  plans  to  haul  it  down  again,  and  that 
the  captured  brig  was  in  the  hands  of  the 
prize  crew  not  more  than  twelve  hours.  Cap- 
tain Semmes  could  not  burn  her  as  he  would 
have  been  glad  to, do,  for  it  so  haj^pened  that 
she  had  a  neutral  cargo  on  board.     The  sugar 


154  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

and  molasses  with  which  her  hold  was  filled 
were  consigned  to  an  English  port  in  the  island 
of  Jamaica,  and  if  he  had  destroyed  it  by 
applying  the  torch  to  the  Sabine,  the  rebel 
commander  would  surely  have  brought  his 
government  into  trouble  with  England.  That 
was  something  he  could  not  afford  to  do,  so  he 
determined  to  take  his  prize  into  the  nearest 
Cuban  port,  in  the  hope  that  the  Spanish  author- 
ities would  permit  him  to  land  the  cargo  and 
sell  the  brig  for  the  benefit  of  the  Confederate 
government.  There  is  every  reason  to  believe 
that  he  would  have  been  disappointed,  for 
Spain  was  too  friendly  to  the  United  States  to 
give  aid  and  comfort  to  her  enemies ;  but 
before  the  matter  could  be  put  to  the  test  the 
SaMne'  s  men,  with  Jack  Gray  at  their  head, 
quietly  overpowered  the  rebel  prize  crew  that 
had  been  put  aboard  of  her  and  filled  away 
for  Key  West,  which  was  the  nearest  Federal 
naval  station.  When  they  arrived  there  they 
turned  their  five  prisoners  over  to  the  com- 
mandant and  set  sail  for  Boston,  taking  with 
them  the  valuable  cargo  that  ought  to  have 
gone  to  Jamaica.     When  off  the  coast  of  North 


THE   MAN   HE   WANTED  TO   SEE.  155 

Carolina  they  had  a  short  but  rather  excit- 
ing race  with  Captain  Beardsley's  privateer 
Osprey,  on  which  Marcy  Gray,  Sailor  Jack's 
brother,  was  serving  as  pilot ;  but  the  Sabine 
was  too  swift  to  be  overhauled,  and  her  skipper 
too  wide-awake  to  be  deceived  by  the  sight 
of  the  friendly  flag  which  their  pursuers 
gave  to  the  breeze  in  the  hope  of  alluring  the 
defenceless  merchantman  to  her  destruction. 
How  the  brig's  owners  accounted  for  the 
cargo  of  molasses  and  sugar  they  so  unex- 
pectedly found  on  their  hands  Jack  Gray 
neither  knew  nor  cared,  for  his  first  and  only 
thought  was  to  reach  home  and  see  how  his 
mother  and  Marcy  were  getting  on.  In  this 
the  master  of  the  Sabine  stood  his  friend  by 
securing  for  him  a  berth  as  second  officer  on 
board  the  fleet  schooner  West  Wind,  which, 
while  claiming  to  be  an  honest  coaster,  was 
really  engaged  in  a  contraband  trade  that 
would  have  made  her  a  lawful  prize  to  the 
first  Federal  blockader  that  haj)pened  to  over- 
haul and  search  her.  Jack  knew  all  about  it 
and  understood  the  risk  he  was  taking ;  but 
he  accepted  the  position  when  it  was  offered, 


156  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

because  he  could  not  see  that  there  was  any 
other  way  for  him  to  get  home.  Although  the 
schooner's  cargo  was  consigned  to  a  well-known 
American  firm  in  Havana,  the  owners  did  not 
mean  that  it  should  go  there  at  all.  They  in- 
tended that  it  should  be  run  through  the 
blockade  and  sold  at  Newbern.  Captain  Fra- 
zier  explained  all  this  to  Jack,  and  though  the 
latter  did  not  believe  in  giving  aid  and  comfort 
to  the  enemies  of  the  Old  Flag,  he  not  only 
accepted  the  position  of  second  mate  and  pilot 
of  the  West  Wind,  but  also  invested  two-thirds 
of  his  hard-earned  wages  in  quinine,  calomel, 
and  other  medicines  of  which  the  Confederacy 
stood  much  in  need,  and  sold  them  inNewbern 
so  as  to  clear  about  twelve  hundred  dollars. 
But  it  wasn't  money  that  Jack  Gray  cared  for 
just  then.  He  wanted  to  see  his  mother  and 
Marcy. 

The  enterprise  was  successful.  Captain 
Frazier  ran  down  the  coast  without  falling  in 
with  any  of  the  blockaders,  Sailor  Jack  took 
the  schooner  through  Oregon  Inlet  without 
the  least  trouble,  the  Confederates  were  ready 
to  pay  gold  for  her  cargo,  and  then  Captain 


THE   MAN   HE   WANTED   TO   SEE.  157 

Frazier  loaded  with  cotton  for  Bermuda,  while 
his  pilot,  with  one  of  the  West  Wind's  fore- 
mast hands  for  company,  set  out  for  home  on 
foot.  We  have  told  how  he  came  like  a  tliief 
in  the  night  and  aroused  his  brother  by  toss- 
ing pebbles  against  his  bedroom  window,  and 
what  he  did  during  the  short  time  lie  remained 
under  his  mother's  roof.  We  have  also  de- 
scribed some  of  the  exciting  incidents  that 
liappened  when  Marcy  took  him  out  to  the 
blockading  fleet  in  the  Fairy  Belle— how  they 
ran  foul  of  Cai)tain  Beardsley's  schooner  as 
they  were  passing  through  Crooked  Inlet,  and 
were  afterward  hailed  by  a  steam  launch,  whose 
commanding  officer  would  have  given  every- 
thing he  possessed  if  he  could  have  brought 
that  same  schooner  within  range  of  his  how- 
itzer for  about  two  minutes— but  they  found 
one  of  the  cruisers,  the  Harriet  Lane,  without 
much  trouble  and  Sailor  Jack  remained  aboard 
of  her,  while  Marcy  fi'lled  away  for  home. 
And  we  may  add  that  the  latter  never  heard 
from  his  brother  again  until  he  read  in  the 
papers  that  his  vessel  had  been  caj)tured  at 
Galveston. 


158  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

Bright  and  early  the  next  morning,  after  a 
short  interview  with  Captain  Wainwright,  the 
commander  of  the  Harriet  Lane,  Jack  Gray- 
was  shipped  with  due  formality  and  rated  as 
"seaman"  on  the  books  of  the  paymaster, 
who  ordered  his  steward  to  serve  him  two 
suits  of  clothes  and  the  necessary  small  stores. 
Ten  minutes  afterward,  having  rigged  himself 
out  in  blue  and  tossed  his  citizen's  suit 
through  one  of  the  ports  into  the  sea.  Jack 
was  working  with  the  crew  as  handily  as 
though  he  had  been  attached  to  that  particular 
vessel  all  his  life.  Of  course  he  had  never 
been  drilled  with  small-arms  or  in  handling 
big  guns  ;  but  being  quick  to  learn,  his  mates 
never  had  reason  to  call  him  a  lubber,  nor  was 
he  ever  sent  to  the  mast  for  awkwardness  or 
neglect  of  duty. 

The  Harriet  Lane  had  been  built  for  the 
revenue  service,  and  was  considered  to  be  the 
finest  vessel  in  it.  She  was  small,  not  more 
than  five  hundred  tons  burden,  but  she  was 
swift ;  and  if  a  suspicious  craft  appeared  in 
tlie  offing,  the  Lane,  oftener  than  any  other 
steamer,  was  sent  out  to  see  who  she  was  and 


THE   MAN   HE   WANTED   TO   SEE,  159 

"wliat  business  she  had  there.  Consequently 
the  life  Jack  led  aboard  of  her  was  as  full  of 
excitement  and  active  duty  as  he  could  have 
wished  it  to  be.  Much  to  Marcy's  regret  she 
took  no  part  in  the  fight  at  Roanoke  Island. 
ISTot  being  intended  for  so  heavy  work,  she 
remained  outside  to  watch  for  blockade  run- 
ners, and  so  Marcy  never  had  a  chance  to  see 
how  his  brother  looked  in  a  blue  uniform. 

Not  long  after  that  they  were  still  farther 
separated.  For  weeks  there  had  been  rumors 
that  the  government  intended  to  make  an 
effort  to  recapture  some  of  the  ports  on  the 
Gulf  of  Mexico  that  had  been  seized  by  the 
Confederates  ;  but  whether  JSTew  Orleans,  Gal- 
veston, or  Mobile  was  to  be  taken  first,  or 
whether  the  Lane  was  to  have  a  hand  in  it, 
nobody  knew.  The  last  question  was  an- 
swered when  all  the  vessels  that  could  be 
spared  from  the  Atlantic  blockading  fleet, 
Jack's  among  the  number,  were  ordered  to 
report  to  Flag-officer  Farragat  at  Ship  Island 
in  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  On  the  way  they 
picked  up  a  large  fleet  of  mortar  schooners 
which  had  been  ordered  to  rendezvous  at  Key 


160  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

West,  and  readied  their  destination  six  weeks 
in  advance  of  the  army  of  General  Butler, 
which  was  to  co-operate  with  them  in  the  cap- 
ture of  New  Orleans.  But  the  time  was  not 
passed  in  idleness.  They  ran  down  to  the 
mouths  of  the  Mississippi,  and  worked  a  full 
month  to  get  their  vessels  over  the  bar  into 
the  river.  They  found  but  fifteen  feet  of 
water  there,  while  many  of  the  fleet  drew  from 
three  to  seven  feet  more,  so  that,  wlien  they 
had  been  lightened  almost  to  the  bare  hull,  the 
tugs  had  to  pull  them  through  a  foot  or  more 
of  mud.  It  was  tiresome  and  discouraging 
work,  but  the  same  patience,  determination, 
and  skill  that  carried  Flag-ofiicer  Goldsborough 
safely  through  the  gale  at  Hatteras  enabled 
Farragut  to  overcome  the  obstructions  at  the 
mouths  of  the  Mississippi,  and  on  the  8th  of 
April  five  powerful  steam  sloops,  two  large 
sailing  vessels,  seventeen  gunboats,  and  twenty- 
one  mortar  schooners  were  fairly  over  the  bar 
and  ready  for  business.  But  three  more 
weary  weeks  passed  before  active  operations 
Avere  begun,  during  which  Farragut  and 
Butler  met  at  Ship  Island  and  decided  upon  a 


THE   MAN   HE   WANTED   TO    SEE.  161 

plan  of  operations,  and  the  river  up  to  tlie 
forts  was  carefully  surveyed,  so  that  the  Union 
commanders,  by  simply  looking  at  the  com- 
passes in  their  binnacles,  could  tell  how  far  off 
and  in  what  direction  each  fort  and  battery 
lay,  and  how  they  ought  to  elevate  and  train 
their  guns  in  order  to  reach  them.  Of  course 
the  rebels  were  not  idle  while  these  surveys 
were  being  made,  and  protested  against  them 
with  every  cannon  they  could  bring  to  bear 
upon  the  boats  and  men  engaged  in  the  work ; 
but  "in  spite  of  all  dangers  and  difficulties 
the  surveys  were  accomplished  and  maps  pre- 
pared showing  the  bearing  and  distance  from 
every  point  on  the  river  to  the  flagstaffs  in  the 
forts." 

On  the  morning  of  the  17th  the  rebels  began 
the  fight  in  earnest  by  sending  down  a  fire-raft 
that  had  been  saturated  with  tar  and  turpen- 
tine ;  but  a  boat  Avhich  put  off  from  the 
Iroquois  towed  the  raft  ashore,  where  it  burned 
itself  out,  doing  no  harm  to  anybody.  Then 
the  mortar  schooners  took  a  hand  and  pounded 
Fort  Jackson  with  their  thirteen-inch  shells 
until  they  set  it  on  fire  and  destroyed  all  the 
11 


162  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

clothing  and  commissary  stores  it  contained. 
Then  the  barrier  Avhich  extended  straight 
across  the  river  from  Fort  Jackson,  and  was 
formed  of  dismantled  vessels  securely  anchored 
and  bound  together  with  heavy  chains,  was 
cut,  and  Farragut  was  ready  to  perform  the 
feat  that  made  him  famous  the  world  over  and 
placed  him  where  he  rightfully  belonged — at 
the  head  of  our  navy.  He  ran  by  the  forts 
with  the  loss  of  but  a  single  vessel,  the  Varuna, 
which  was  the  swiftest  and  weakest  in  the 
squadron.  Having  been  built  for  a  merchant- 
man she  was  not  intended  for  such  work  as 
Farragut  put  upon  her,  but  she  won  the  honors 
of  the  fight  before  she  went  down,  having 
helped  sink  or  disable  six  of  the  rebel  fleet, 
any   one   of  which   Avas   fairly   her  match. 

The  Lane  took  no  part  in  this  fight,  but 
remained  behind  to  guard  Porter's  mortar 
schooners,  Avhicli  dropped  down  the  river  as 
soon  as  Farragut' s  boats  had  passed  the  forts 
and  closed  with  the  Confederate  fleet  which 
came  gallantly  down  the  river  to  meet  them. 

"But  our  position  was  one  of  great  danger, 
and  we  knew  it,"  said  Sailor  Jack  at  this  point 


THE   MAIS"   HE   WANTED   TO   SEE.  163 

in  Ms  narrative.  "There  were  at  least  fifteen 
vessels  in  the  rebel  fleet,  two  of  which,  the 
Louisiana  and  Manassas,  the  former  mount- 
ing sixteen  heavy  guns,  were  the  main  reliance 
of  the  enemy,  and  supposed  to  be  able  to  deal 
with  us  as  the  Merrimac  dealt  Avitli  the 
Cumherland  in  Hampton  Roads.  But  we 
never  saw  the  Louisiana  until  the  thing  was 
over,  although,  we  afterward  learned  that  she 
had  been  assigned  an  important  position  in 
the  fight.  The  other  iron-clad  was  on  hand, 
and  began  operations  by  shoving  a  fire-raffc 
against  the  flagship,  which  ran  aground  in 
trying  to  escape  from  her.  But  instead  of 
coming  on  down  the  river  and  destroying  our 
mortar  fleet,  as  she  could  have  done  very 
easily,  for  such  wooden  boats  as  the  Lane 
could  not  have  stood  against  her  five  minutes, 
she  rounded  to  and  went  back  after  Farragut, 
who  ordered  the  Mississippi  to  sink  her. 
She  didn't  succeed  in  doing  that,  but  she 
riddled  the  Manassas  with  a  couple  of  broad- 
sides, set  her  on  fire,  and  let  her  float  down 
the  river  with  the  current.  I  tell  you  I  was 
frightened  when  I  saw  that  ugly-looking  thing 


164  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

bearing  down  on  us.  We  opened  fire  on  lier, 
and  in  a  few  minutes  she  blew  up  and  went 
down  out  of  sight." 

Shortly  after  this,  Jack  went  on  to  relate, 
one  of  the  most  important  and  impressive 
incidents  of  the  seven  days'  fight  took  place  on 
board  the  Harriet  Lane.  AVhen  Porter  re- 
ceived a  note  from  Flag-officer  Farragut  stating 
that  he  had  passed  the  forts  in  safety,  destroy- 
ing the  Confederate  flotilla  on  the  way,  and 
was  on  the  point  of  starting  for  New  Orleans, 
and  suggesting  that  possibly  the  forts  might 
surrender  if  summoned  to  do  so,  Porter  sent  a 
boat  ashore  to  see  what  the  rebels  thought 
about  it ;  and  the  answer  was  that  they  didn't 
acknowledge  that  they  had  been  whipped  yet. 
Although  the  forts  had  been  battered  out  of 
shajDe  by  the  shower  of  heavy  shells  that  had 
been  rained  into  them,  the  garrisons  could  still 
find  shelter  in  the  bomb-proofs,  and  if  it 'was 
all  the  same  to  Porter  they  would  liold  out  a 
while  longer.  But  the  men  who  had  to  fight 
the  guns  did  not  look  at  it  that  way.  They 
were  ready  to  give  up,  for  they  knew  they 
would  have  to  do  it  sooner  or  later  ;  and  when 


THE   MAN  HE   WANTED   TO   SEE.  165 

Porter  began  another  bombardment,  which  he 
did  without  loss  of  time,  the  men  began  desert- 
ing by  scores,  and  the  next  day  the  rebel  com- 
mander hauled  down  his  flag. 

"These  battles  were  all  won  by  the  navy," 
said  Jack  proudly,  "and  everything  on  and 
along  the  river  was  destroyed  by  or  surren- 
dered to  the  navy,  for  the  soldiers  didn'  t  come 
up  till  tlie  trouble  was  all  over.  We  went  up 
with  our  little  fleet  and  anchored  abreast  of 
Fort  Jackson.  A  boat  was  sent  ashore,  and 
when  it  came  back  it  brought  General  Duncan 
and  two  or  three  other  high-up  rebel  officers, 
who  did  not  act  at  all  like  badly  beaten  men, 
and  they  were  received  aboard  the  Lane  and 
taken  into  the  cabin,  where  the  terms  of 
capitulation  were  to  be  drawn  up  and  signed. 
They  hadn't  been  gone  more  than  five  minutes 
when  some  of  the  crew  happened  to  look  up 
the  river,  and  there  was  that  big  iron-clad,  the 
Louisiana^  bearing  down  on  us,  a  mass  of 
flames.  Then  I  was  frightened  again,  I  tell 
you.  Mounting,  as  she  did,  sixteen  heavy 
guns,  she  must  have  had  all  of  twenty  thou- 
sand pounds  of  powder  in  her  magazine,  and 


166  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

what  would  become  of  us  if  slie  blew  up  in  the 
midst  of  our  fleet?  There  wouldn' t  be  many 
of  us  left  to  tell  the  story.  It  was  an  act  of 
treachery  on  the  i)art  of  the  rebel  naval  officers 
which  Farragut  was  prompt  to  punish  by  send- 
ing them  North  as  close  prisoners,  while  the 
army  officers  were  given  their  freedom  under 
parole." 

"Did  she  do  any  damage  when  she  blew 
up?"  asked  Rodney,  who  was  deeply  inter- 
ested  in   the  story. 

"Not  any  to  speak  of,"  rejjlied  Jack,  "be- 
cause the  explosion  took  place  before  she  got 
among  us.  Of  course  word  was  sent  below  as 
soon  as  we  caught  sight  of  her,  and  the  order 
was  promptly  signalled  to  every  vessel  in  sight 
to  play  out  her  cable  to  the  bitter  end,  and 
stand  by  to  sheer  as  wide  as  possible  from  the 
blazing  iron-clad  as  she  drifted  down  ;  but  we 
had  hardly  set  to  work  to  obey  the  order  when 
there  was  a  wave  in  the  air,  which  I  felt  as 
plainly  as  I  ever  felt  a  wave  of  water  pass  over 
my  head  ;  the  Lane  heeled  over  two  streaks, 
everything  loose  on  deck  was  jostled  about, 
and  then  there  was  a  rumbling  sound,  not  half 


THE   MAN   HE   WANTED   TO   SEE,  167 

as  loud  as  you  would  think  it  ought  to  be,  and 
the  danger  was  over.  The  Louisiana  blew  up 
before  she  got  to  us,  and  that  was  a  lucky 
thing  for  the  Harriet  Lane.^'' 

And  Jack  might  have  added  that  it  was  a 
lucky  thing  for  the  whole  country,  for  the 
commander,  Porter,  Avho  was  in  the  Lane's 
cabin  with  the  rebel  officers,  was  afterward  the 
fighting  Admiral  Porter,  who  commanded  the 
Mississippi  squadron.  His  death  at  that  crisis 
would  have  beeen  a  national  loss. 


CHAPTER  yiT. 

SAILOR  JACK   IN  ACTION. 

THE  city  of  JSTew  Orleans  surrendered  to 
Flag-officer  Farragut,  who  held  it  nnder 
his  guns  until  General  Butler  came  up  with 
his  soldiers  to  take  it  off  his  hands  ;  and  then 
he  kept  on  up  the  river  with  a  portion  of  his 
victorious  fleet  to  effect  a  junction  with  the 
Mississippi  squadron  at  Vicksburg,  while  the 
remainder  of  his  vessels,  one  of  which  was  the 
Hari'let  Lane^  sailed  away  to  hoist  the  flag  of 
the  Union  over  the  port  of  Galveston,  and 
break  up  the  blockade  running  that  was  going 
on  there.  This  force  appeared  before  Galves- 
ton in  May,  but  no  earnest  efforts  were  made 
to  compel  a  surrender  until  October ;  and  even 
then  no  serious  attempt  was  made  to  take  and 
hold  the  city.  The  commanding  naval  officer 
was  content  to  establish  a  close  blockade  of  the 
port,  and  nothing  could  have  suited  Jack 
Gray  better.     Galveston  was  a  noted  place  for 

168 


SAILOR  JACK   IN   ACTION".  169 

blockade  runners,  and  it  was  seldom  indeed 
that  one  escaped  when  the  Lane  sighted  and 
started  in  pursuit  of  her.  Every  capture 
meant  prize  money. 

"  We  made  the  most  of  the  money  that  was 
made  off  that  port  last  summer,  but  of  course 
we  didn't  get  it  all  ourselves,"  explained  Jack. 
"If  you  are  cruising  by  yourself  and  make  a 
capture  while  another  ship  is  within  signalling 
distance  of  you,  the  law  says  you  must  divide 
with  that  ship,  although  she  may  not  have 
done  a  thing  to  help  you  take  the  prize  ;  but 
if  you  belong  to  a  squadron,  every  vessel  in  it 
has  a  share  in  every  prize  you  make.  For- 
tunately for  us  there  were  but  four  ships  in 
our  squadron  off  Galveston,  and  every  time  we 
took  a  prize  somebody  would  sing: 

"  '  Here's  enough  for  four  of  us  ; 

Thank  Heaven  there's  no  more  of  us — 
God  save  the  king.' " 

Things  went  on  in  this  satisfactory  way 
until  General  Banks  took  command  at  New 
Orleans  in  December,  and  sent  a  regiment  to 
assist  the  naval  forces  at  Galveston,  it  being 
a  part  of  his  duty  to  "direct  the  military 


170  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

movements  against  the  rebellion  in  the  State 
of  Texas."  JSTot  more  than  a  third  of  the 
regiment  had  arrived,  the  rest  being  on  its 
v^^ay,  w^hen  the  rebel  general  Magruder,  who 
had  just  been  appointed  to  the  chief  command 
in  Texas,  formed  a  bold  plan  for  the  recapture 
of  the  city,  and  carried  it  out  successfully  on 
New  Year's  morning.  He  had  six  thousand 
men  and  several  cotton-clad  vessels  to  help 
him,  and  of  course  the  battle  could  end  in  but 
one  way. 

Galveston  stands  upon  a  long,  narrow  island 
in  the  bay,  and  is  connected  with  the  main- 
land by  a  bridge  two  miles  in  length,  built 
upon  piles.  This  bridge  ought  to  have  been 
destroyed,  but  it  wasn't,  and  when  Magruder 
charged  across  it  with  his  six  regiments,  he 
confidently  expected  to  sweep  away  like  so 
many  cobwebs  the  little  handful  of  Federals 
standing  at  the  other  end ;  but  he  didn't. 
Aided  by  a  hot  fire  from  the  Harriet  Lane 
and  Westfield,  they  repulsed  every  charge  he 
made,  and  no  doubt  would  have  continued  to 
do  so  if  two  of  his  best  vessels,  the  Neptune 
and  Bayou  City,  protected  by  cotton  bales 


SAILOR  JACK   IN  ACTION.  171 

piled  twenty  feet  high  upon  their  low  decks, 
so  that  at  a  distance  they  looked  like  common 
cotton  transports,  and  manned  by  a  regiment 
of  sharpshooters,  had  not  hastened  to  his  aid. 
"We  had  our  own  way  with  the  troops  on 
the  bridge  until  those  two  boats  came  dashing 
down  at  us,  and  then  things  began  to  look 
squally,"  said  Jack.  "We  steamed  up  to 
meet  them,  but  it  wasn't  long  before  we 
wished  we  hadn't  done  it.  We  didn't  dis- 
able them  with  our  bow-guns  as  we  hoped  to 
do,  and,  indeed,  it  was  as  much  as  a  man's 
life  was  worth  to  handle  the  guns  at  all,  for 
the  sharpshooters  behind  the  cotton  bales  sent 
their  bullets  over  our  deck  like  hailstones. 
One  time  I  grabbed  hold  of  a  train  tackle  with 
four  other  men  to  help  run  out  the  No.  2 
gun,  and  the  next  I  knew  I  was  standing  there 
alone.  The  four  had  been  shot  dead,  but  I 
wasn't  touched.  All  this  while  the  rebel 
boats  were  coming  at  us  full  speed,  and  the 
next  thing  I  knew  they  struck  us  with  terrible 
force,  bow  on,  one  on  each  side.  But,"  added 
Jack,  with  a  chuckle  of  satisfaction,  "one  of 
them  got  hurt  worse  than  we  did.     The  Ifep- 


172  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

tune  was  disabled  by  the  shock,  and  grounded 
in  shoal  water  ;  but  the  men  on  her  were  game 
to  the  last.  They  fought  to  win  and  shot  to 
kill ;  for,  no  matter  which  way  I  looked,  1  saw 
somebody  drop  every  minute." 

"And  what  became  of  the  other  boat?" 
inquired  Rodney. 

"The  Bayou  Oityf  Oh,  she  drifted  away, 
but  rounded-to  and  came  at  us  again,  hitting 
us  pretty  near  in  the  same  place  ;  but  the 
second  time  she  didn't  drift  away.  She  made 
fast  to  and  boarded  us.  When  I  saw  those 
graybacks  swarming  over  the  hammock  net- 
tings, and  heard  that  Captain  Wainwright  and 
most  of  the  other  officers  had  been  killed,  I 
knew  I  had  to  do  something  or  go  to  prison  ; 
so  I  just  took  a  header  overboard  through  the 
nearest  port  and  struck  out  for  the  Westfield^ 
which  was  a  mile  or  so  astern,  and  trying  to 
come  to  our  aid." 

Jack  was  not  quite  correct  when  he  said  he 
"struck  out,"  after  taking  a  header  through 
the  port.  He  turned  on  his  back  and  floated, 
for  he  was  afraid  that  if  he  showed  any  signs 
of  life  he  would  be  discovered  and  picked  off 


SAILOR  JACK   IN   ACTION.  173 

by  some  sharpshooter.  He  permitted  the 
current  to  whirl  him  around  now  and  then,  so 
that  he  could  keep  his  bearings  and  hold  a 
straight  course  for  the  Wesfjleld,  but  before  he 
had  floated  half  a  mile,  he  discovered  that  he 
was  making  straight  for  as  hot  a  place  as  that 
from  which  he  had  just  escaped.  The  flagship 
Westfield  had  run  hard  and  fast  aground 
within  easy  range  of  a  battery  which  the 
rebels  had  planted  on  the  shore,  and  although 
two  other  gunboats  came  up  and  tried  to  drag 
her  into  deep  water,  she  was  being  literally 
cut  to  pieces  before  Jack  Gray's  eyes  ;  and 
more  than  that,  her  commander  was  making 
preparations  to   abandon  her  to   her  fate. 

"Then  I  began  to  look  wild  again,  and  took 
a  sheer  off  to  give  the  flagship  plenty  of  room 
to  blow  up  in,"  said  Jack.  "Captain  Ren- 
shaw,  her  commandant,  was  a  regular,  and  I 
knew  well  enough  that  he  would  not  leave  his 
vessel  in  such  shape  that  the  rebels  could  fix 
her  up  and  use  her  against  us,  though  I  was  not 
prepared  for  what  happened  a  few  minutes 
later.  While  I  was  moving  along  with  the 
current,  not  daring  to  swim  lest  I  should   at- 


174  SAILOR   JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

tract  the  notice  of  some  wide-awake  sliarp- 
sliooter,  I  saw  Rensliaw  send  off  liis  men  by 
the  boat-load  until  at  last  there  were  but  two 
boats  left  alongside  the  Westfield.  One  of 
these  put  off  loaded  to  the  water's  edge,  but 
the  other  remained,  and  I  knew  it  was  waiting 
for  Renshaw  to  fire  the  train  he  had  laid  to 
the  magazine ;  and  that  made  me  sheer  off  a 
little  farther,  although  I  began  swimming  the 
best  I  knew  how  in  the  hope  that  one  of  the 
boats  would  wait  for  me  to  catch  on  behind. 
In  a  minute  or  two  more  Captain  Renshaw 
came  out,  and  that  was  the  first  and  last  I  ever 
saw  of  him.  He  stepped  into  his  boat,  but 
before  it  had  moved  twenty  feet  away  the 
flagship  blew  up,  smashing  the  two  small  boats 
into  kindling-wood  and  sending  every  man  in 
them  to  kingdom  come." 

No  one  else  who  was  as  close  to  the  Westfield 
as  Jack  Gray  was  at  that  moment  escaped  with 
his  life,  and  he  did  not  come  off  unscathed.  • 
While  he  was  gazing  around  him  in  a  dazed 
sort  of  way,  gasping  for  breath  and  utterly 
unable  to  realize  what  had  happened,  a  piece 
of  the  Westfield' s  wreck  which  had  been  blown 


SAILOR  JACK   IN   ACTIOTT.  175 

high  in  air  descended  with  frightful  velocity, 
and  barely  missing  his  head  struck  him  a  glanc- 
ing blow  on  the  shoulder  and  shot  down  into 
the  water  out  of  sight.  And  it  was  but  one  of 
a  score  of  such  dangerous  missiles  which  rained 
upon  him  during  the  next  few  seconds.  They 
plunged  into  the  water  perilously  near  to  him 
and  splashed  it  in  his  face  from  all  directions. 
The  most  of  them  were  no  bigger  than  the  head 
they  threatened  to  break,  while  others  were  as 
large  as  a  barn  door.  At  first  Jack  thought 
the  safest  place  would  be  nearer  the  bottom  of 
the  river  ;  but  when  he  saw  how  some  of  the 
heaviest  pieces  of  the  wreck  dove  out  of  sight 
when  they  struck  the  water,  he  decided  that 
he  could  not  go  deep  enough  to  escape  them, 
and  that  the  best  plan  would  be  to  look  up- 
ward and  try  to  dodge  them  when  he  saw  that 
they  were  coming  too  close  ;  but  by  the  time 
he  came  to  this  conclusion  and  turned  upon 
his  back,  the  storm  was  over  and  the  air  above 
him  was  clear.  It  was  the  narrowest  escape 
he  had  ever  had,  and  Jack  Gray  had  been  in 
some  tight  places. 

Having   satisfied  himself    that  he   was    no 


176  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

longer  in  danger  of  being  knocked  senseless 
by  falling  wreckage,  Jack  turned  npon  liis 
face  and  struck  out  for  the  nearest  gunboat,  or 
rather  tried  to  ;  for  his  right  arm  was  almost 
useless.  He  could  thrust  it  through  the  water 
in  front  of  him,  but  Avhen  he  endeavored  to 
swim  with  it,  it  dropped  to  his  side  like  apiece 
of  lead. 

"  And  that's  the  way  it  felt  for  three  or  four 
days,  although  I  was  under  good  care  all  the 
time,"  continued  Jack,  "I  was  picked  up  after 
I  had  floated  and  swum  with  one  hand  a  distance 
of  three  miles,  reported  the  loss  of  my  vessel, 
and  told  what  little  I  knew  about  the  blowing 
up  of  the  Westfield^  and  then  I  was  glad  to 
go  into  the  hands  of  the  doctor,  for  I  found 
that  I  was  worse  hurt  than  I  thought  I  was. 
But  you  may  be  sure  I  didn't  say  so.  If 
there  is  anything  that  is  despised  aboard  ship 
it  is  a  sojer,  which  is  the  name  we  give  to  men 
who  can  work  and  won't,  and  so  I  kept  on 
doing  duty  when  I  ought  by  rights  to  have 
been  in  my  hammock.  I  pulled  twenty  miles 
on  the  night  of  the  11th  of  January  to  escape 
capture,  and  of  course  the  exertion  gave  me  a 


SAILOR  JACK   IN   ACTION.  177 

big  set-back  ;  but  I  haven't  got  to  that  part 
of  my  story  yet." 

Jack  Gray  watched  and  waited  anxiously  to 
hear  from  some  of  his  shipmates,  but  not  a 
word  did  he  get  from  anybody  ;  and  this  led 
him  to  believe  that  he  was  the  only  one  of  the 
Harriet  Lane's  crew  who  escaped  death  or 
capture.  The  direct  results  of  the  fight  were 
that  the  rebels,  with  very  small  loss  to  them- 
selves, captured  the  Lane,  caused  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  flagship  of  the  squadron,  secured 
possession  of  two  coal  barges  that  were  lying 
at  the  wharf  and  nearly  four  hundred  pris- 
oners ;  but  "the  indirect  results  were  still 
more  important."  The  whole  State  of  Texas 
came  back  under  their  flag,  and  blockade  run- 
ning went  on  as  though  it  had  never  been 
interfered  with  at  all.  It  was  done  princi- 
pally by  small  schooners  like  CaiDtain  Beards- 
ley's  Hattle,  which  took  out  cotton  and  brought 
back  medicines,  guns,  ammunition,  and  cloth 
that  was  afterward  made  into  uniforms  for  the 
Confederate  soldiers.  And  the  worst  of  it  was 
that  it  was  kept  up  to  the  end  of  the  war.  Of 
course  word  was  sent  to  New  Orleans  at  once, 

12 


178  SAILOE  JACK,  THE  TKADER. 

and  Commodore  Bell  came  down  with  a  small 
fleet  to  shut  up  the  port ;  but  he  brought  no 
soldiers  with  him  to  hold  the  city,  for  General 
Banks  couldn't  spare  a  single  regiment.  He 
had  made  up  his  mind  to  capture  Port  Hudson, 
and  needed  all  the  men  he  could  get. 

Among  the  vessels  that  came  down  with 
Commodore  Bell  was  the  Hatteras,  the  slowest 
old  tub  in  the  fleet,  and  much  to  his  disgust 
Jack  Gray  was  ordered  aboard  of  her.  The 
badge  he  wore  on  his  arm  showed  that  he  had 
been  a  quartermaster  on  board  the  Lane,  but 
he  was  transferred  without  any  rating  at  all, 
it  being  optional  with  Captain  Blake,  the  com- 
mander of  the  Hatter  as,  whether  he  would 
continue  him  as  a  quartermaster  or  put  him 
before  the  mast.  Jack  had  already  served  four 
months  beyond  the  year  for  which  he  enlisted, 
but  he  made  no  complaint,  although  he  had 
firmly  resisted  all  efforts  on  the  part  of  the 
Lane' s  officers  to  induce  him  to  re-enlist  for 
three  years  or  during  the  war. 

"  I  might  have  had  a  commission  as  well  as 
not,"  said  Jack,  "for  there  wasn't  a  watch 
officer  aboard  the  Lane  who  could  have  passed 


SAILOR  JACK   IN   ACTIOT^.  179 

a  better  examination  tlian  I  could.  Indeed,  I 
hadn't  been  aboard  of  her  twenty-four  hours 
before  I  found  that  I  knew  more  about  a  ship 
than  most  of  the  men  who  commanded  me. 
But  as  often  as  I  thought  of  staying  in  the 
service,  something  told  me  I  had  better  get 
out ;  and  that  was  the  reason  why  I  refused  to 
re-enlist  or  accept  a  commission." 

The  fact  was  that,  so  long  as  the  speedy 
Lane  was  capturing  a  valuable  blockade  run- 
ner or  two  every  week,  and  money  was  coming 
into  his  pockets  faster  than  he  could  have 
earned  it  in  any  other  business,  Jack  Gray  was 
quite  willing  to  remain  a  quartermaster,  and 
so  he  said  nothing  to  Captain  Wainwright  con- 
cerning the  honorable  discharge  that  right- 
fully belonged  to  him  ;  but  now  the  case  was 
different,  and  Jack  wanted  to  go  home  and  see 
how  his  mother  and  Marcy  were  getting  on. 
He  had  been  ordered  aboard  a  vessel  that 
couldn't  catch  a  mud-turtle  in  a  stern  chase, 
and  consequently  there  was  no  more  excite- 
ment or  prize  money  for  him.  The  paymaster 
who  ought  to  have  paid  him  off  and  given  him 
his  discharge  had  been  captured  with  all  his 


180  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

money  and  books,  and  Jack  l^new  that  liis 
accounts  would  have  to  be  settled  in  Wash- 
ington ;  and  there  was  so  much  red  tape  in 
Washington  that  there  was  no  telling  whether 
or  not  they  would  ever  be  settled.  After 
thinking  the  matter  over,  Jack  wrote  a  letter 
to  Commodore  Bell,  telling  him  how  the  mat- 
ter stood  and  asking  for  his  discharge,  and 
gave  it  into  the  hands  of  the  captain  of  the 
Hatter  as  to  be  forwarded.  The  first  result  was 
about  what  he  thought  it  would  be.  He  had 
to  pull  off  his  petty  officer's  badge  and  go 
before  the  mast.  He  was  also  assigned  to  an 
oar  in  the  first  cutter,  and  that  was  one  of  the 
best  things  that  ever  happened  to  Jack  Gray. 
Nowhere  else  in  the  world  is  life  such  a 
burden  as  aboard  a  vessel  lying  on  a  station 
with  nothing  but  routine  work  to  do.  Jack 
found  it  so  and  chafed  and  fretted  under  it, 
but  not  for  long.  One  day,  about  an  hour 
after  the  dinner  pennant  had  been  hauled 
down,  the  lounging,  lazy  crew  of  the  Hatteras 
were  startled  by  the  cry  of  "  Sail  ho  !  "  from 
the  lookout.  Signal  was  at  once  made  to  the 
Brooklyn,  Commodore  Bell's  flagship,  and  the 


SAILOR  JACK   IN   ACTIOlSr.  181 

answer  that  came  back  was  an  order  for  the 
Hatteras  to  run  out  and  see  who  and  what  the 
visitor  was.  Of  course  the  crew  were  glad 
to  be  afloat  once  more,  and  some  of  them 
began  talking  about  prize  money ;  but  others 
declared  that  if  the  stranger  had  any  speed  at 
all  and  desired  to  keep  out  of  the  way,  the 
Hatteras  would  never  get  nearer  to  her  than 
she  v/as  at  that  moment.  But  the  sequel 
proved  that  the  stranger  did  not  want  to  keep 
out  of  the  way,  although  at  first  she  acted  like 
it.  She  rounded  to  and  turned  her  head  out 
to  sea  as  if  she  were  fleeing  from  pursuit ;  but 
all  the  Mobile  the  war  ship  came  nearer  and 
nearer  to  her,  until  the  officer  at  the  masthead 
made  out  that  the  chase  was  a  large  steamer 
under  sail.  This  fact  was  duly  communicated 
to  the  flagship  by  signal,  and  then  the  old 
Hatteras  seemed  to  wake  up  and  try  to  show 
a  little  speed  ;  but  Captain  Blake  became  sus- 
picious and  ordered  his  ship  cleared  for  action, 
with  everything  in  readiness  for  a  determined 
attack  or  a  vigorous  defense. 

The  pursuit  continued  for  twenty  miles,  and 
finally  night  set  in  with  no  moon  but  plenty 


182  SAILOR   JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

of  starlight.  Jack  Gray,  who  had  stood  at 
one  of  the  broadside  guns  until  he  was  tired, 
had  just  given  utterance  to  the  hope  that  the 
chase  would  improve  the  opportunity  to  run 
out  of  sight  or  else  come  about  and  give  them 
battle,  just  as  she  pleased,  when  an  officer  at 
the  masthead  sent  down  tlie  startling  informa- 
tion that  the  stranger  had  rounded-to  and  was 
coming  back.  Beyond  a  doubt  that  meant 
that  something  was  going  to  happen.  She 
hove  in  sight  almost  immediately,  and  in  less 
time  than  it  takes  to  tell  it  stopped  her  engines 
within  a  hundred  yards,  the  captain  of  the 
blockader  ringing  his  stoptping  bell  at  the  same 
instant. 

"What  ship  is  that?"  shouted  the  Union 
commander,  from  his  place  on  the  bridge. 

"Her  Britannic  Majesty's  steamer  Vixen  f^ 
was  the  reply.     "  What  ship  is  that  ?  " 

"This  is  the  United  States  ship  Hatteras,''^ 
answered  Captain  Blake.  "I  will  send  a  boat 
aboard  of  you." 

"When  we  heard  this  conversation,"  said 
Jack,  "we  made  up  our  minds  that  we  had 
been  chasing  an  English  ship.     Mind  you,  I 


SAILOR  JACK   i:!sr   ACTION.  183 

don't  say  a  friendly  ship,  for  England  never 
was  and  never  will  be  friendly  to  the  United 
States.  She  would  be  glad  to  see  ns  broken 
np  to-morrow,  and  is  doing  all  she  dares  to 
help  the  rebels  along.  Of  course  it  was  our 
captain's  duty  to  find  out  whether  or  not  the 
other  caj)tain  had  told  him  the  truth,  and  the 
only  way  he  could  do  it  was  by  sending  an 
officer  off  to  examine  his  papers.  He  had  the 
first  cutter  called  away,  and,  as  that  was  the 
boat  to  which  I  belonged,  I  lost  no  time  in  tak- 
off  my  side-arms  and  tumbling  into  her.  And 
that  was  all  that  saved  me  from  falling  into 
Semmes'  power  a  second  time." 

Jack  then  went  on  to  say  that,  as  soon  as  the 
officer  had  taken  his  place  in  the  stern-sheets, 
the  cutter  was  shoved  off  from  the  Hatteras 
and  pulled  around  her  stern ;  but  just  as  she 
began  swinging  around  with  her  bow  toward 
the  supposed  English  ship  a  most  exciting  and 
unexpected  thing  happened.  A  voice  came 
from  the  latter' s  deck,  so  clear  and  strong  that 
the  cutter's  crew  could  hear  every  word  : 

"This  is  the  Confederate  steamer  Ala- 
bama ! ' '    And  before  the  astonished  blue-jack- 


184  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

ets  had  time  to  realize  that  they  had  been 
trapped  the  roar  of  a  broadside  rent  the  air, 
and  shells  and  solid  shot  Avent  crashing  into 
the  wooden  walls  of  the  doomed  Hatteras. 
Semmes  afterward  took  great  credit  to  himself 
because  he  did  not  strike  the  Federal  ship  in 
disguise,  but  gave  her  "fair  warning."  How 
long  was  it  after  he  gave  warning  that  he  fired 
his  broadside  into  her  ?  Not  two  seconds.  He 
took  all  the  advantage  he  could,  and  yet  there 
was  no  one  who  protested  louder  or  had  more 
to  say  about  trickery  and  cowardice  Avlien  the 
Federal  officers  took  advantage  of  him.  He 
made  a  great  fuss  because  Captain  Winslow 
protected  the  machinery  and  boilers  of  the 
Kearsarge  witli  chains,  as  Admiral  Farragut 
protected.  Ms  vessels  when  he  ran  past  the 
forts  at  New   Orleans. 

The  roar  of  the  Confederate  steamer's  guns 
had  scarcely  ceased  before  an  answering  broad- 
side came  from  the  Union  war  ship.  Without 
the  loss  of  a  moment  both  vessels  were  put  un- 
der steam  and  the  action  became  a  running  fight, 
the  blue-jackets  standing  bravely  to  their  guns 
and  giving  their  powerful  antagonist  as  good 


SAILOR  JACK   IN  ACTION.  185 

as  she  sent.  The  cutter's  crew  tried  in  vain  to 
return  to  their  vessel.  They  rowed  hard,  but 
every  turn  of  her  huge  paddle-wheels  left 
them  farther  behind,  and  finally  they  gave  up 
in  despair  and  laid  on  their  oars  and  watched 
the  conflict.  It  was  desperate  but  short.  In 
just  thirteen  minutes  from  the  time  it  began 
the  Hatter  as  hoisted  a  white  light  at  her  mast- 
head and  tired  an  off-gun  to  show  that  she  had 
been  beaten. 

"Fortune  of  Avar,"  sighed  the  officer  who 
was  sitting  in  the  cutter's  stern-sheets  beside 
the  coxswain.  "But  I  tell  you,  men,  I  hate  to 
see  our  old  ship  surrendered  to  that  pirate. 
Back,  port;  give  way,  starboard  !  We  haven't 
surrendered,  and  we  want  to  get  away  from 
here   before   they   catch  sight   of  us." 

No  cutter's  crew  ever  pulled  harder  than 
Jack  Gray  and  his  shipmates  pulled  in  obedi- 
ence to  this  order.  Jack  forgot  that  he  had  a 
crippled  arm,  and  when  the  cutter  came  about 
and  pointed  her  head  toward  the  shore  more 
than  twenty  miles  away,  he  rowed  as  strong  an 
oar  as  he  ever  did  in  his  life.  He  listened 
anxiously  for  the  hail  that  would  tell  him  the 


186  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

cutter  had  been  discovered,  but  heard  none  ; 
but  he  saw  and  reported  something  that  sent 
an  exultant  thrill  through  the  heart  of  every- 
one of  his  companions. 

"Mr.  Porter,"  said  he,  in  tones  which  in- 
tense excitement  rendered  husky.  "  Our  old 
tub  has  been  surrendered,  but  she'll  never  do 
the  rebels  any  good.     She's  sinking,  sir." 

"Thank  Heaven!"  murmured  the  officer, 
whirling  around  as  if  he  had  been  shot. 

He  couldn't  see  anything  through  the  dark- 
ness except  the  white  light  that  the  blockader 
had  hoisted  at  her  masthead  in  token  of  sur- 
render, and  which  was  swaying  about  in  a 
way  that  would  have  been  unaccountable  to  a 
landsman  ;  but  the  blue-jackets  knew  she  was 
going  to  the  bottom.  She  went  rapidly,  too, 
for  Captain  Blake  afterward  reported  that  in 
two  minutes  from  the  time  he  left  her  the 
Hatteras  disappeared,  bow  first.  Then  Jack 
thought  that  Mr.  Porter  would  order  the 
cutter  back  to  assist  in  picking  up  the  crew, 
but  he  didn't  do  it.  They  would  have  reached 
the  sinking  vessel  too  late  to  be  of  any  service, 
and  besides  Mr.  Porter  thought  it  his  duty  to 


SAILOR  JACK   IN   ACTION.  187 

report  to  the  Flag-officer  at  once,  believing 
that  if  the  Brooklyn  were  promptly  warned 
she  could  capture  or  sink  the  Alabama  before 
she  had  time  to  get  very  far  away.  But  the 
fleet  had  already  been  warned  by  the  sound  of 
the  guns  that  the  Hatteras  had  encountered 
an  armed  enemy  of  some  description,  and 
several  steamers  were  hastening  to  the  rescue  ; 
scattering  widely  in  the  pursuit,  to  cover  as 
much  space  as  possible  and  increase  their 
chances  of  falling  in  with  the  enemy.  The 
cutter  passed  these  vessels  at  so  great  a  dis- 
tance that  she  could  not  attract  the  attention 
of  any  of  them,  and  it  was  not  until  they  had 
pulled  all  the  way  to  Galveston,  and  boarded 
one  of  the  blockading  fleet  which  remained 
behind,  that  the  particulars  of  the  fight 
became  known.  None  of  the  pursuing 
steamers  ever  saw  the  Alabama^  which  sailed 
away  for  the  coast  of  Yucatan  ;  but  as  one  of 
them  was  returning  to  her  anchorage  the  next 
morning,  baffled  and  beaten  in  the  chase,  she 
fell  in  with  the  sunken  Hatteras,  whose  royal 
masts  were  just  above  water.  The  night  pen- 
nant floating  from  one  of  them  told  the  melan- 


188  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

choly  story  ;  but  if  Jack  Gray  and  liis  ship- 
mates had  not  escaped  just  as  they  did,  it 
miglit  have  been  a  long  time  before  Com- 
modore Bell  would  have  known  that  the 
dreaded  Alabama  had  been  in  his  immediate 
vicinity.  But  her  day  was  coming.  The  first 
time  she  met  a  Union  war  ship  that  was  any- 
where near  her  match  she  was  sent  to  the 
bottom. 

Once  more  Jack  was  without  a  vessel,  and 
had  no  clothes  "to  bless  himself  with"  except 
those  he  stood  in  ;  but  that  didn't  trouble  him 
half  as  much  as  did  the  discharge  he  Avas 
anxious  to  get.  He  and  the  rest  of  the 
cutter's  men  were  sent  aboard  the  flagship 
when  she  returned  to  her  anchorage,  and  that 
suited  him,  for  it  gave  him  a  fair  chance  to 
gain  the  commodore's  ear — a  task  he  set  him- 
self to  accomplish  as  soon  as  the  excitement 
had  somewhat  died  away.  But  the  Flag- 
officer  was  a  regular,  and  like  all  regulars  he 
moved  in  ruts  of  opinion  so  deep  that  a  yoke 
of  oxen  could  not  have  pulled  him  out.  He 
couldn't  give  Jack  a  discharge,  he  said, 
because  he  didn't  know  when  or  where  he 


SAILOR  JACK   IN   ACTION.  189 

enlisted,  for  how  long,  or  anything  about  it. 
He  couldn't  give  him  any  money,  either,  for 
his  name  was  not  borne  on  the  paymasters 
books.  He  could  give  him  a  paper  stating 
that  he  had  done  service  in  the  Union  navy 
and  let  him  go  home,  and  that  was  all  he  could 
do  for  him. 

"  And  that's  the  kind  of  a  discharge  I  got," 
said  Jack  with  a  laugh.  "But  it  proved  to 
be  good  enough  and  strong  enough  to  take  me 
through  the  provost  guards  in  New  Orleans 
and  get  me  a  pass  to  come  up  here.  I  have 
not  drawn  a  cent  from  Uncle  Sam,  so  he  owes 
me  a  year's  wages  and  better,  as  well  as  a  lot 
of  prize  money.  The  commodore  disj^atched  a 
vessel  to  New  Orleans  with  his  rejDort  of  the 
loss  of  the  Hatteras,  and  I  was  permitted  to 
take  passage   on  her." 

"How  did  you  feel  when  you  found  your- 
self in  a  strange  city  with  no  money  in  your 
pocket  and  no  friends  to  go  to?"  inquired 
Ned   Griffin. 

"I  didn't  think  much  about  it,  because  I 
never  let  a  little  thing  like  that  worry  me," 
said  Jack  with  another  laugh.     "  I  did  not  by 


190  SAILOE  JACK,  THE  TRADEK. 

any  means  intend  to  go  hungry,  or  sleep  on  the 
Levee,  if  my  pockets  were  empty.  There  were 
several  of  our  vessels  in  the  river,  and  I  knew 
I  could  ship  whenever  I  felt  like  it ;  but  I  had 
made  up  my  mind  that  I  would  not  go  afloat 
again  until  I  had  said  '  hello  ! '  to  my  relatives 
up  here  in  Moore ville." 

The  first  boat  that  left  the  dispatch  steamer 
took  Jack  ashore  and  landed  him  on  the  Levee 
among  some  river  craft  that  belonged  to  the 
quartermaster's  dejDartment  of  Banks'  army. 
Being  a  deep-water  man  he  did  not  bestow 
more  than  a  passing  glance  upon  them,  but 
turned  his  face  toward  the  docks  above  at 
which  a  large  fleet  of  sea-going  vessels  was 
moored ;  and  as  he  walked  he  kept  a  bright 
lookout  for  two  things — a  sailorman  who  could 
tell  him  what  had  happened  in  the  world  since 
he  left  it  (being  on  the  blockade  Jack  thought 
was  almost  as  bad  as  being  out  of  the  world), 
and  a  soldier  who  could  direct  him  to  the 
office  of  the  provost  marshal.  As  he  stepped 
from  the  Levee  to  the  nearest  dock  his  gaze  be- 
came riveted  upon  a  rakish  looking  fore-and- 
aft  schooner  that  lay  there  discharging  a  mis- 


SAILOR  JACK   IN   ACTION.  191 

cellaneous  cargo.  She  looked  familiar  to  Lim. 
She  was  painted  white  with  a  green  stripe  at 
her  water-line,  and  bore  the  name  ''''Hyperion^ 
Portland,"  on  her  stern  ;  but  Jack  Gray  was 
positive  that  he  had  known  and  sailed  on  her 
when  she  was  painted  black  with  a  red  stripe 
at  the  water-line,  and  went  by  a  very  differ- 
ent name.  He  dodged  up  the  after  gang- 
plank to  the  deck  and  took  another  look.  He 
had  had  charge  of  that  deck  more  than  once. 
Everything  on  and  about  it  was  familiar  to 
him,  not  excepting  the  face  of  the  lank  Yankee 
skipper,  whose  head  and  shoulders  at  that  mo- 
ment emerged  from  the  companion-way.  Jack 
turned  about  and  approached  him  with  a 
comical  smile   on   his   countenance. 

"  Want  a  pilot  this  trip,  Captain  Frazier  ?  " 
said  he. 

"No,  I  don't,"  was  the  surly  reply.  He 
looked  searchingly  into  Jack's  face,  but  could 
not  remember  that  he  had  ever  seen  him 
before. 

"No  offence,  I  hope,"  continued  the  latter. 
"  But  I  served  you  so  well  before  that  I  think 
you  might  give  me  a  lift  when   you   see  me 


192  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

stranded  here  witliout  a  shot  in  the  locker. 
I  took  the  West  Wind  through  Oregon  Inlet 
when ' ' 


"Mr.  Gray — Jack  !  "  said  the  captain,  in  an 
excited  whisper.  "  Sh  !  Not  another  word  out 
of  5^ou  ;  not  a  whimper.  Come  below  with 
me." 

Sliaking  all  over  with  suppressed  merriment 
Jack  Gray  followed  the  skipper  down  the 
stairs  and  into  the  cabin,  the  door  of  which 
was  quickly  but  softly  closed  and  locked. 

"  Sit  down,"  continued  the  captain.  "  And 
if  you  care  a  cent  for  me  don't  speak  above 
your  breath.  Where  have  you  been  ?  That 
uniform   says   you   belong   to   the   navy." 

"I  did,  but  I  don't  belong  now,"  replied 
Jack.  "Shortly  after  I  made  that  trip  with 
you  I  shipped  for  a  year,  but  have  been  kept 
over  my  time.  I  have  been  on  the  blockade, 
and  have  helped  capture  many  a  fine  craft  like 
this  one." 

"Sh!  Don't  speak  so  loud,"  whispered 
Captain  Frazier,  for  it  was  he.  "  But  you 
couldn't  do  harm  to  this  craft  now,  for  she  is 
engaged   in   honest  business." 


SAILOR  JACK   IN   ACTION.  193 

"No  private  ventures  stowed  away  among 
lier  cargo  ?  "  said  Jack. 

"  Nary  venture.  There's  no  need  of  it,  for  I 
make  money  hand  over  fist  in  an  honest  way, 
I  am  a  cotton  trader.  Got  a  permit  and  every- 
thing all  square.  And  cotton  will  be  worth  a 
dollar  a  pound  by  the  time  I  get  back  to  New 
York." 

"  What  do  you  pay  for  it  here  ? " 

"That  depends  on  the  man  I  am  dealing 
with.  If  he  is  a  Union  man  I  give  him  from 
seven  to  ten  cents  in  greenbacks,  which  will 
buy  eighty  per  cent,  more  stuff  than  Confeder- 
ate scrip.  If  he  is  a  good  rebel,  or  if  he  is  sur- 
rounded by  rebel  neighbors  who  are  keeping 
an  eye  on  his  movements,  I  give  him  ten  cents 
in  rebel  money." 

"Where  do  you  get  rebel  money?"  asked 
Jack. 

"Anywhere — everywhere.  I  can  get  all  I 
want  for  thirty  cents  on  a  dollar,  and  have 
bought  some  as  low  as  twenty.  It  will  be 
lower  than  that  in  less  than  a  month.  But, 
mind  you,  no  one  around  here  knows  that  I 
have  been  a  blockade  runner.     And  I  am  not 

13 


194  SAILOE   JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

at  the  head  of  this  business.  My  Boston 
owners  are  doing  it  all  and  I  am  simply  their 
agent.     But  are  you  really  aground  ? " 

"  I  never  told  a  straighter  story  in  my  life," 
answered  Jack,  who  went  on  to  describe  how 
he  happened  to  be  in  that  condition.  When 
his  hasty  narrative  was  finished  Captain 
Frazier   said: 

"There's  always  room  aboard  my  schooner 
for  such  a  sailorman  as  I  know  you  to  be,  and 
if  you  want  to  sign  with  me  as  my  chief  officer 
I  shall  be  glad  to  have  you.  And  you  must 
let  me  advance  you  money  enough  to  provide 
for  your  immediate  wants." 

When  Jack  readied  this  part  of  his  story 
Rodney  knew  where  that  blue  suit  came  from. 


CHAPTER  YIII. 

BAD   NEWS   FEOM   MAKCY. 

SAILOR  JACK  and  liis  old  commander 
spent  two  hours  locked  in  the  Hyper  ion''  s 
cabin,  and  if  a  stranger  could  have  seen  how 
very  cordial  and  friendly  they  were,  or  had 
heard  the  peals  of  laughter  that  arose  when 
one  or  the  other  described  some  amusing  scene 
through  which  he  had  passed  since  they  last 
met,  he  never  would  have  dreamed  that  one 
had  risked  life  and  liberty  in  doing  what  he 
could  to  put  down  the  rebellion,  while  the 
other  had  run  an  equal  risk  in  bringing  aid 
and   comfort   to   it. 

Captain  Frazier  had  been  a  daring  and  suc- 
cessful blockade  runner  as  long  as  his  Boston 
owners  could  make  money  by  it,  and  there 
were  not  many  cruisers  on  the  Atlantic  coast 
that  had  not,  at  one  time  or  another,  sighted 
and  given  chase  to  the  fleet  West  Wind,  nor 
were  there  very  many  officers  and  sailormen 

195 


196  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

who  could  not  recognize  her  as  far  as  they 
could  see  her.  When  light  swift  steamers 
were  added  to  the  blockading  fleet  the  busi- 
ness became  too  uncertain  and  dangerous  to 
be  longer  followed,  and  Captain  Frazier  was 
honest  enough  to  say  that  he  was  glad  to  stop 
it,  for,  being  a  Yankee,  he  had  never  had  any 
heart  for  it  any  way. 

When  the  Mississippi  was  cleared  as  far  as 
Port  Hudson,  and  all  that  immense  cotton 
country  on  both  sides  the  river  was  thrown 
open  to  traffic.  Captain  Frazier' s  owners  saw 
an  opportunity  to  do  business  in  an  honest 
way  and  were  prompt  to  improve  it.  Armed 
with  a  pocketful  of  credentials  one  of  the  firm 
hastened  to  New  Orleans  to  obtain  a  permit 
to  trade  in  cotton,  and  the  West  Wind  was 
ordered  to  a  neutral  port  "for  repairs." 
When  she  again  appeared  on  the  high  seas 
she  did  not  look  at  all  like  herself,  and  even 
her  name  had  been  changed.  She  went  to 
Portland,  Me.,  and  stayed  there  long  enough 
to  get  a  charter,  and  then  sailed  to  Boston  and 
loaded  up  with  commissary  stores  for  Banks' 
army.     On  the  way  down  she  was  boarded  by 


BAD   NEWS  FROM   MARCY.  197 

more  than  one  officer  who  had  chased  her 
when  she  was  a  blockade  runner,  and  now  she 
was  in  New  Orleans  (safe,  too,  although  sur- 
rounded by  Federal  war  ships)  and  making 
ready  to  take  a  cargo  of  cotton  to  New  York. 

"  I  grew  ten  years  older  during  the  twelve 
months  I  was  engaged  in  running  the  block- 
ade," said  Captain  Frazier,  in  concluding  his 
story,  "but  I  had  lots  of  fun  and  saw  no  end 
of  excitement.  And  now  to  come  back  to 
business.  Didn't  I  hear  you  say,  while  you 
were  serving  as  pilot  and  second  mate  of  the 
West  Wind,  that  you  have  relatives  here  in 
Louisiana  and  that  they  raise  cotton?  1 
thought  so.  Well,  now,  have  they  got  any 
that   they  want   to   sell?" 

"I  don't  know  ;  but  I  can  find  out.  I  did 
not  intend  to  leave  this  country  without  see- 
ing them.  How  far  is  Baton  Rouge  above 
here?" 

"Not  far;  a  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  I 
should  say." 

"  Well,  if  I  can  get  there  and  obtain  a  pass 
that  will  take  me  through  the  lines  as  far  as 
Mooreville,  I  can  easily  find   them." 


198  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

"You  can  get  there,  and  I'll  see  that  yon 
have  a  bushel  of  passes  if  you  need  them.  If 
they've  got  any  cotton  I  want  it." 

"You  can't  have  it,  captain,  for  any  such 
price  as  you  have  been  paying  others.  I'll 
not  stand  by  and  see  my  nncle  gouged  in  any 
such  way  as  that.  And  I  shall  hold  out  for 
greenbacks,  too." 

"Certainly;  of  course.  That's  all  right; 
but  as  for  the  price,  I  guess  you  will  take 
what  I  please  to " 

Captain  Frazier  stopped  and  looked  hard 
at  Jack,  who  gazed  fixedly  at  him  in 
return.  Each  knew  what  the  other  was 
thinking  of. 

"I  don't  know  that  my  uncle  Rodney  has 
any  cotton,"  continued  Jack.  "But  if  he 
has,  you  can  afford  to  give  him  at  least 
twenty-five  cents  a  pound,  greenback  money, 
for  it.  He  is  bound  to  lose  his  niggers,  and,  if 
he  is  robbed  of  his  cotton,  what  will  he  have 
to  start  on  when  the  war  is  over?" 

"Judging  by  the  way  you  look  out  for  the 
pennies  you're  as  much  of  a  Yankee  as  I  am," 
said  Captain  Frazier  with  a  laugh.     "You'll 


BAD   NEWS   FROM   MARCY.  199 

swamp  my  owners  at  this  rate  ;  but  seeing  it's 
you,  I' suppose  I  shall  have  to  submit  to  be 
robbed  myself.  Now  listen  while  I  tell  you 
something.  General  Banks  came  here  on  pur- 
pose to  take  Port  Hudson,  Grant  is  coming 
down  to  capture  Vicksburg,  and  when  the 
Mississippi  is  Open  from  Memphis  to  the  sea 
there'll  be  a  fortune  for  the  first  man  who  is 
lucky  enough  to  get  a  permit  to  trade  in  cot- 
ton on  the  river.  My  agent,  who  has  an  office 
ashore  and  to  whom  I  will  introduce  you  this 
afternoon,  has  heard  enough  to  satisfy  him 
that  there  are  half  a  million  bales  concealed  in 
the  woods  and  swamps  along  the  river,  and 
that  the  owners,  both  Union  and  rebel,  are 
eager  to  sell  before  the  Confederate  govern- 
ment has  a  chance  to  destroy  it ;  and  they 
would  rather  sell  it  for  a  small  sum  in  good 
money  than  for  ten  times  the  amount  in  such 
money  as  they  grind  out  at  Richmond.  Now, 
my  idea  is  to  charter  a  river  steamer — a  light- 
draught  one — so  that  she  can  run  up  any  small 
tributary,  and  put  a  man  with  a  business  head 
on  board  of  her  with  instructions  to  buy  every 
pound  of  cotton  he  can  hear  of  between  this 


200  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

port  and  Memphis.  How  would  you  like  the 
berth?" 

"That  depends  on  Avhether  or  not  I  can  be 
of  any  service  to  my  uncle  and  his  friends," 
replied  Jack.     "  What  is  there  in  it  ?  " 

"  A  big  commission  or  a  salary,  just  as  you 
please." 

The  matter  wasn'  t  settled  either  one  way  or 
the  other  at  this  interview.  Jack  took  dinner 
with  Captain  Frazier  and  went  ashore  with 
him  in  the  afternoon  to  be  introduced  to  the 
"agent,"  who  wasn't  an  agent  at  all,  but  the 
head  of  a  branch  house  which  the  enterprising 
Boston  firm  had  established  in  New  Orleans. 
He  might  properly  have  been  called  a  cotton 
factor.  When  the  captain  told  him  who  and 
what  Jack  was,  and  what  he  had  done  to  make 
the  firm's  first  venture  in  contraband  goods 
successful,  adding  that  he  was  going  up  to 
Baton  Rouge  to  see  whether  or  not  there  was 
any  cotton  to  be  had  at  or  near  that  place,  the 
agent  became  interested,  and  promised  to 
assist  Jack  by  every  means    in    his  power. 

"1  didn't  see  how  a  civilian  could  help  me 
along    with    the   military    authorities,"    said 


BAD   NEWS   FROM   MAECY.  201 

Jack,  in  concluding  his  interesting  narrative, 
"  but  I  wasn't  long  in  finding  out.  The  agent, 
as  I  shall  always  speak  of  him,  gave  me  a  let- 
ter to  the  provost  marshal  in  New  Orleans  and 
another  to  the  officer  holding  the  same  posi- 
tion in  Baton  Rouge,  and  those  letters  made 
things  smooth  for  me.  I  supposed,  of  course, 
that  I  should  have  to  foot  it  from  the  city  to 
Mooreville,  but  the  marshal  kindly  furnished 
me  with  a  horse  to  ride,  the  only  condition 
imposed  being  that  I  should  send  it  back  the 
first  good  chance  I  got.  Captain  Frazier  ad- 
vanced me  money  to  buy  a  citizen's  outfit  and 
pay  travelling  expenses,  and  here  lam." 

"And  right  glad  I  am  to  see  you,"  said  Rod- 
ney, as  Jack  settled  back  in  his  chair  with  an 
air  which  seemed  to  say  that  he  had  finished 
his  story  at  last.     "  But  you  are  a  slick  one." 

"No  more  so  than  some  other  folks,"  re- 
torted Jack.  "It's  a  wonder  you  have  not 
brought  yourself  into  serious  trouble  by  your 
smuggling  and  giving  aid  to  escaped  prisoners." 

"But,  Jack,  I  assure  you  that  we  were  in 
sore  need  of  the  things  I  have  smuggled 
through  the  lines,"    said   Rodney  earnestly. 


202  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER, 

"We  couldn't  possibly  get  along  without 
them." 

"  And  neither  can  I  get  along  without  mak- 
ing this  war  refund  to  my  mother  every  dollar 
she  is  likely  to  lose  by  it,"  answered  his 
cousin.  "  The  whole  South  is  going  to  be  im- 
poverished before  this  thing  is  over.  My  folks 
had  no  hand  in  bringing  these  troubles  upon 
us,  and  I  don't  mean  that  they  shall  suffer 
through  the  folly  of  a  few  fanatics,  if  I  can 
help  it." 

"But,  Jack,  you  will  take  up  with  the 
agent's  offer  and  put  a  trading  boat  on  the 
river,  will  you  not  ?  "  said  Rodney. 

"Port  Hudson  and  Yicksburg  have  not  been 
captured  yet,"  suggested  Mrs.  Gray. 

"No,  but  they're  going  to  be,"  said  Jack 
confidently.  "And  until  that  happens  I 
might  better  be  at  home  than  anywhere  else, 
for  I  can't  do  anything  here.  If  I  find  that 
mother  and  Marcy  are  getting  on  all  right,  you 
have  my  promise  that  I  will  return  and  do  my 
best  to  get  your  four  hundred  bales  to  market." 

"Bully  for  you,"  exclaimed  Rodney  joy- 
fully.    "You  are  just  the  man  we  wanted  to 


BAD  NEWS   FEOM   MAECY.  203 

see  after  all.  I  wish  you  could  take  the  cotton 
to-night,  don't  you,  father?" 

"I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do.  I  will  speak  to 
the  agent  and  Captain  Frazier  about  it,  and 
see  if  I  can  induce  them  to  send  a  boat  after 
your  cotton,  so  that  the  Hyperion  can  take  it 
out  on  her  next  trip.  I  might  have  made  some 
such  arrangement  before  I  left  New  Orleans, 
but  I  didn't  know  whether  or  not  you  had 
any  cotton.  What's  become  of  those  bush- 
whackers of  whom  Uncle  Rodney  has  given 
me  an  interesting  account?" 

"Do  you  mean  Lambert  and  his  men? 
I  suppose  they  are  still  hiding  in  the  swamp," 

"Protecting  your  cotton?"  added  Jack. 
"Well,  they'll  have  to  be  'neutralized,'  as 
McClellan  said  of  the  Merrimac.  As  I  under- 
stand it,  those  bushwhackers  don' t  mean  that 
you  or  anybody  else  shall  touch  that  cotton 
unless  they  can  make  something  by  it.  It's 
a  little  the  queerest  thing  I  ever  heard  of,  but 
so  far  they  seem  to  have  been  your  best  friends. ' ' 

"  T  have  been  studying  about  that  a  good 
deal,"  answered  Rodney.  "And  the  conclu- 
sion I  have  come  to  is  that  when  we  get  ready 


204  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

take  charge  of  our  property,  and  not  before, 
we'll  have  to  get  rid.  of  Lambert  in  some  man- 
ner. He  is  the  leader,  and  if  he  were  out  of 
the  way  I  think  his  men  would  scatter.  I'll 
make  a  prisoner  of  him  if  father  will  consent." 

"O  Rodney,  you  must  not  attempt  it," 
'  exclaimed  his  mother.  "  Lambert  has  the  repu- 
tation of  being  a  dangerous  man." 

"I  don't  know  where  or  how  he  came  by 
that  reputation,"  said  the  boy  with  a  smile. 
"I  know  he  is  treacherous,  and  if  I  should 
make  the  attempt  and  fail,  I  should  have  to 
look  out  for  him.  He'd  as  soon  bushwhack  me 
as  anybody  else.     But  I  don't  intend  to  fail." 

Sailor  Jack's  time  was  so  short,  and  there 
were  so  many  other  things  to  be  talked  about, 
that  this  matter  was  presently  dropped,  to  be 
taken  up  again  and  settled  at  some  future  day. 
When  Jack  started  for  Baton  Rouge  the  next 
morning,  with  his  uncle  and  cousin  for  com- 
j)any,  the  only  conclusion  they  had  been  able 
to  reach  was  that  Mr.  Gray  should  hold  fast  to 
his  cotton,  if  he  could,  until  he  heard  from 
Jack,  who  would  forward  his  letter  under  cover 
to  the  provost  marshal  in  Baton  Rouge  so  that 


BAD   NEWS   FKOM  MARCY.  205 

it  would  be  sure  to  reacli  its  destination.  If  it 
were  sent  to  the  care  of  Rodney's  Confeder- 
ate friend,  Mr.  Martin,  the  Federal  authori- 
ties might  not  take  the  trouble  to  deliver  it. 

The  next  step  was  to  obtain  the  provost 
marshal's  consent  .to  the  arrangement,  and 
that  was  easily  done.  He  knew  that  Jack  had 
risked  his  life  for  the  Union,  and  that  his  cou- 
sin lent  a  helping  hand  to  escaped  prisoners 
as  often  as  the  opportunity  was  presented  ;  so 
he  readily  promised  to  take  charge  of  all  the 
letters  that  came  from  the  North  addressed  to 
Rodney  Gray,  and  hand  them  over  without 
reading  them.  He  gave  Jack  a  pass  authoriz- 
ing him  to  leave  the  city  on  business,  and  a 
note  to  the  quartermaster  which  brought  him 
a  permit  to  take  passage  for  New  Orleans  on 
one  of  the  steamers  attached  to  the  quarter- 
master's department.  Rodney  and  his  father 
saw  him  off  and  then  turned  their  faces  toward 
the  hospitable  home  of  Mr.  Martin,  where  they 
were  to  remain  until  morning. 

"It  was  just  no  visit  at  all,"  said  Rodney 
in  a  discouraged  tone.  "When  Jack  said  he 
was  a  trader  and  that  he  had  influential  friends. 


206  SAILOE  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

I  wouldn'  t  have  taken  anything  I  can  think 
of  now  for  our  chances  of  getting  that  cotton 
off  our  hands.  As  the  matter  stands,  every- 
thing depends  on  'ifs.'  If  Marcy  and  his 
mother  are  getting  on  all  right,  and  if  Jack 
decides  to  come  back  and  take  np  with  Captain 
Frazier's  offer,  Ave  shall  have  a  show  ;  other- 
wise not." 

This  state  of  affairs  was  galling  to  Rodney 
Gray,  who  could  not  bear  to  be  kept  in  sus- 
pense ;  but  exciting  events  were  transpiring 
up  the  river  every  day,  and  in  trying  to  keep 
track  of  them  Rodney  lost  sight  of  his  troubles 
for  a  brief  season.  General  Grant,  who  had 
taken  command  of  the  army  that  was  operat- 
ing against  Yicksburg,  had  gone  to  Avork  as  if 
he  were  thoroughly  in  earnest,  and  there  Avasn't 
a  soldier  under  him  who  was  more  anxious  for 
his  complete  triumph  than  Avas  this  ex-Con- 
federate hero  of  ours.  Rodney  was  soldier 
enough  to  know  that  neither  Yicksburg  nor 
Port  Hudson  could  be  taken  by  assault,  and 
that  they  could  not  be  starved  into  surrender 
so  long  as  supplies  of  every  sort  could  be  run 
into  them  from  the  Red  River  country.     They 


BAD   NEWS   FROM   MARCY.  207 

must  be  surrounded  on  the  river  side  as  well 
as  on  the  land  side,  and  Rodney  was  impatient 
to  learn  what  General  Grant  was  going  to  do 
about  it.  Fortunately  the  latter  had  an  able 
assistant  in  David  D.  Porter,  who  had  com- 
manded Farragut's  mortar  schooners  at  New 
Orleans.  He  was  now  an  acting  rear  admiral 
and  commanded  the  Mississippi  squadron,  and 
most  loyally  did  he  second  General  Grant  in 
his  efforts  to  capture  the  rebel  stronghold. 

The  very  first  move  Porter  made  excited 
Rodney's  unbounded  admiration  and  made 
his  heart  beat  high  with  hope.  He  ordered 
the  ram  Queen  of  the  West  to  run  the  batteries 
and  destroy  the  transports  that  were  engaged 
in  bringing  supplies  to  Vicksburg.  Owing  to 
some  trouble  with  her  steering  gear  it  was 
broad  daylight  when  the  ram  started  on  her 
dangerous  mission,  and  she  was  a  fair  target 
for  the  hundred  heavy  guns  which  the  rebels 
had  mounted  on  the  bluffs.  But  she  went 
through,  stopping  on  the  way  long  enough  to 
make  a  desperate  attempt  to  sink  the  steamer 
Vicksburg,  which  the  rebels,  after  General 
Sherman's  defeat  at  Chickasaw  Bayou,  had 


208  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

brought  down  from  the  Yazoo  to  be  made  into 
a  gunboat.  She  failed  in  that,  but  ran  by  the 
batteries  without  receiving  much  injury,  and 
began  operations  by  capturing  a  steamer 
which  she  kept  with  her  as  tender,  and  burn- 
ing three  others  tliat  were  loaded  with  pro- 
visions. 

"If  she  keeps  that  up  Yicksburg  is  a 
goner,"  said  Rodney  to  his  friend  Ned 
Griffin. 

"  One  would  think  you  are  glad  of  it,"  said 
the  latter.  "That's  a  pretty  way  for  a  rebel 
soldier  to  talk." 

"  Rebel  soldier  no  longer,"  replied  Rodney. 
"I  know  when  I  have  had  enough.  I'm 
whipped,  and  now  I  want  the  war  to  end.  It's 
bound  to  come  some  of  these  days,  and  I  wish 
it  might  come  this  minute." 

But  unfortunately  the  Queen  did  not  "  keep 
it  up"  as  Rodney  hoped  she  would.  As  long 
as  her  commander  obeyed  orders  and  devoted 
his  attention  to  transports,  he  was  successful ; 
but  when  he  got  it  into  his  head  that  he  could 
whip  a  fort  with  his  single  wooden  vessel,  he 
ruined  himself  just  as  Semmes  did  when  he 


BAD   NEWS   FROM  MAECY  209 

thought  he  could  beat  a  war  ship  in  a  fair 
fight,  because  he  had  sunk  one  weak  block- 
ader  and  burned  sixty-five  defenceless  mer- 
chantmen. Colonel  Ellet,  who  commanded  the 
Queen,  ran  uj)  Red  River,  where  he  captured 
the  New  Era  with  a  squad  of  Texas  soldiers, 
twenty-eight  thousand  dollars  in  Confederate 
money,  and  five  thousand  bushels  of  corn  ;  and 
flushed  with  victory  ran  up  twenty  miles 
farther  to  the  fort — and  lost  his  vessel.  He 
escaped  with  a  few  of  his  men,  but  the  ram 
fell  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy,  who  repaired 
her  in  time  to  assist  the  Webb  in  sinking  the 
Indianola — a  fine  new  iron-clad  that  had  run 
the  Vicksburg  batteries  without  receiving  a 
scratch.  Then  all  the  rebels  in  Rodney's 
vicinity  were  jubilant,  and  Rodney  himself 
was  correspondingly  de]3ressed.  On  the  day 
the  unwelcome  news  came  Lambert  rode  into 
the  yard  on  his  way  home  from  Mooreville. 
He  wasn't  afraid  to  go  there  now  that  there 
was  no  conscript  officer  to  trouble  him. 

"I  lieered  about  it,"  he  said,  in  answer  to 
an  inquiry  from  the  anxious  Rodney.  "  We 
allow  to  raise  that  there  fine  iron-clad,  an' 

14 


210  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TEADER. 

show  the  Yanks  what  sort  of  fighting  she  can 
do  when  she's  in  the  hands  of  men.  That  '11 
make  three  good  ships  we'll  have,  an'  with 
them  we  can  easy  clean  out  the  Yankee  fleet 
at  Vicksburg." 

That  was  just  what  Rodney  knew  the  rebels 
would  try  to  do,  and  their  exploit  with  the 
Arlcansas  proved  that  they  were  at  all  times 
ready  to  take  desperate  chances.  Lambert 
never  would  have  thought  of  such  a  thing  him- 
self, so  he  must  have  been  talking  with  some- 
one who  was  pretty  well  informed. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  icef''  asked 
Rodney. 

"IheeredTom  Randolph  an'  others  among 
'em  discussin'  the  projec'  down  to  the  store," 
replied  Lambert. 

"Tom  Randolph  !  He's  a  pretty  fellow  to 
talk  of  cleaning  anybody  out." 

"That's  what  I  thought.  He  never  had  no 
pluck  'ceptin'  on  the  day  he  drawed  his  sword 
on  me.  An'  he  never  would  'a'  done  it  if  his 
maw  hadn't  been  right  there  to  his  elbow.  I 
aint  likely  to  disremember  him  for  that." 

"But  you  took  an  ample  revenge  by  burning 


BAD   NEWS   FROM   MARCY.  211 

his  father's  cotton,  did   you  not?    Lambert, 
that  was  a  cowardly  thing  for  you  to  do." 

Rodney's  tone  was  so  positive  that  the  ex- 
Home  Guard  did  not  attempt  to  deny  the 
accusation.  "Wlio's  been  a-carryin'  tales  on 
me?"  ha  demanded.  "I want  you  to  under- 
stand that  nobody  can't  draw  a  sword  on  me 
an'  shake  it  in  my  face  too,  like  Tom  Ran- 
dolph done.  I  just  dropped  in  to  see  if  you 
could  let  me  have  a  side  of  bacon  this  even- 
in'." 

Without  making  any  reply  Rodney  arose 
from  his  chair  and  led  the  way  toward  the 
smoke-house.  While  he  was  taking  down  the 
bacon  Lambert  kept  up  an  incessant  talking  to 
prevent  him  from  saying  more  about  Mr.  Ran- 
dolph's cotton,  and  when  Rodney  handed  the 
meat  out  of  the  door  he  wheeled  his  mule  and 
rode  quickly  away  ;  but  he  had  said  enough  to 
make  the  boy  very  uneasy.  How  long  would 
it  be  before  he  would  avenge  some  fancied  in- 
sult by  touching  a  match  to  Mr.  Gray's  cotton  ? 

During  the  next  few  days  Rodney  did  not 
do  much  overseer's  work  on  his  plantation, 
and  neither  did  Ned  Griffin.     To  quote  from 


212  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

the  latter  they  became  first-class  all-around 
loafers  ;  and  so  anxious  were  they  to  miss  no 
item  of  news  which  might  have  come  down 
from  Vicksburg  that  they  visited  every  man 
in  the  neighborhood  who  was  known  to  have 
made  a  recent  trip  to  Baton  Rouge  or  have  a 
late  paper  in  his  possession,  and  the  informa- 
tion they  picked  up  during  their  rides  was  far 
from  encouraging.  There  was  a  heavy  force  of 
men  at  work  upon  the  sunken  iron-clad,  as 
well  as  upon  the  Webb,  which  had  been  seri- 
ously injured  during  her  fight  with  the 
Indianola,  and  when  the  latter  was  raised  and 
the  other  fully  repaired,  the  control  of  the 
river  below  Vicksburg  would  be  fairf-y  within 
the  grasp  of  the  Confederates.  If  Porter  sent 
a  few  more  boats  below  the  batteries  to  be 
captured,  the  rebels  would  soon  have  a  power- 
ful and  almost  irresistible  fleet ;  but  in  this 
hope  they  were  destined  to  be  disappointed, 
as  they  had  been  in  many  others. 

It  so  happened  that  the  next  boat  to  pass 
under  the  iron  hail  of  Vicksburg' s  guns  was 
very  different  from  the  Indianola.  The 
papers  described  her  as  a  "  turreted  monster — 


BAD   NEWS   FROM   MARCY.  213 

the  most  formidable  thing  in  the  shape  of  an. 
iron-clad  that  had  ever  been  seen  in  the  West- 
ern waters."  It  was  just  daylight  when  the 
Confederate  gunners  discovered  her  moving 
slowly  down  with  the  current,  and  the  fire  that 
was  poured  upon  her  by  almost  eighteen  miles 
of  batteries  ought,  by  rights,  to  have  sunk 
anything  in  the  form  of  a  gunboat  that  ever 
floated ;  but  the  monster,  with  the  heavy 
black  smoke  rolling  from  her  chimneys,  passed 
safely  on  through  the  whole  of  it  without 
firing  a  single  gun  in  reply,  and  disappeared 
from  view.  Then  there  was  excitement  in 
Yicksburg  and  in  Richmond  too,  for  the  news 
went  to  the  capital  as  quickly  as  the  telegraph 
could  take  it.  The  Queen  of  tlie  West,  which 
now  floated  the  Confederate  flag  and  had  come 
up  to  Warrenton  to  see  how  her  friends  were 
getting  on,  turned  and  took  to  her  heels,  and 
orders  were  sent  down  the  river  to  have  the 
Indianola  blown  up  without  delay,  so  that  she 
might  not  be  recaptured  by  this  new  enemy. 
The  order  was  obeyed,  and  the  powerful  iron- 
clad which  might  have  given  a  better  account 
of  herself  in  rebel  hands  than  she  did  while  in 


214  SAILOR   JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

possession  of  her  lawful  owners,  was  once  more 
sent  to  the  bottom. 

Meanwhile  the  turreted  monster  held  silently 
on  her  way,  moving  as  rapidly  as  a  five-mile 
current  could  take  her,  and  at  last  grounded 
on  a  sand-bar.  Not  till  then  did  the  rebels 
awake  to  the  fact  that  they  had  been  deceived. 
When  they  found  courage  enough  to  go 
aboard  of  her  they  saw,  to  their  amazement 
and  chagrin,  that  she  was  not  a  gunboat  at  all, 
but  a  coal-barge  that  had  been  fitted  up  to 
represent  one.  She  had  been  set  afloat  for  the 
purpose  of  bringing  out  the  whole  fire  of  the 
batteries,  so  that  Admiral  Porter  and  General 
Grant,  who  had  decided  to  effect  a  lodgement 
below  the  city,  might  know  just  how  severe 
would  be  the  cannonade  that  their  vessels 
would  be  subjected  to.  Of  course  the  Con- 
federates were  angry  over  the  loss  of  the 
Indianola,  but  the  soldiers  of  Grant's  army, 
who  had  thronged  the  bank  on  the  Louisiana 
side  and  shouted  and  laughed  to  see  the  fun, 
looked  upon  the  whole  affair  as  the  best  kind 
of  a  joke.  In  speaking  of  it  in  his  report 
Admiral    Porter    said:     "An    old    coal-barge 


BAD   NEWS   FEOM   MAECY.  215 

picked  up  in  the  river  was  the  foundation  we 
had  to  build  on.  The  casemates  were  made  of 
old  boards  in  twelve  hours,  with  empty  pork- 
barrels  on  top  of  each  other  for  smoke-stacks 
and  two  old  canoes  for  quarter-boats.  Her 
furnaces  were  built  of  mud,  and  were  only 
intended  to  make  black  smoke  instead  of 
steam."  This  was  the  contrivance  which 
frightened  the  rebels  into  destroying  the  finest 
gunboat  that  ever  fell  into  their  hands,  and 
which  is  known  to  history  as  "Porter's 
dummy."  The  enemy's  chances  for  getting 
control  of  the  river  Avere  farther  off  than 
before,  and  Rodney  said  he  would  surely  see 
the  day  when  his  cousin's  trading  boat  would 
be  making  regular  trips  up  and  down  the 
Mississippi. 

"  But  do  you  suppose  the  rebels  will  throw 
no  obstacles  in  your  way?"  demanded  Ned 
Griffin.  "  Do  you  imagine  that  they  will  let 
you  run  off  cotton  at  your  pleasure  ?  When 
Vicksburg  and  Port  Hudson  fall  the  river  will 
be  lined  with  guerillas,  and  some  day  they 
will  burn   your  trading  boat." 

Taken  in  connection  with   what  happened 


216  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

afterward  these  words  of  Ned's  seemed  almost 
prophetic. 

Having  become  satisfied  that  the  rebels  were 
not  going  to  build  np  a  navy  in  the  river  as 
they  fondly  hoped  to  do,  Rodney  began  to 
think  more  about  his  absent  cousin  and  tlie 
letters  he  had  promised  to  write.  The  first 
one  that  came  through  the  hands  of  the  prov- 
ost marshal  was  mailed  at  New  Orleans  and 
did  not  contain  a  word  that  was  encouraging. 
Captain  Frazier's  agent  could  not  put  a  boat 
on  the  river  just  now  for  three  reasons  :  He 
couldn't  get  a  permit,  it  wouldn't  be  a  safe 
venture  at  this  stage  of  the  game,  and  he  had 
as  much  cotton  on  hand  already  as  he  could 
attend  to. 

"That  hope  is  knocked  in  the  head,"  said 
Rodney. 

"It  is  no  more  than  I  expected,"  replied 
Mr.  Gray,  after  he  had  read  the  letter.  "  Sav- 
ing that  cotton  is  going  to  be  the  hardest  task 
you  ever  set  for  yourself.  Others  have  been 
ruined  by  this  terrible  and  utterly  useless  war, 
and  why  should  we  think  to  escape  ?  Let  us 
keep  our  many  blessings  constantly  in  mind. 


BAD   l!fEWS   FROM  MARCY.  217 

and  spend  less  time  in  worrying  over  the 
troubles  that  may  come  upon  us  in  the  future. 
None  of  our  family  have  been  killed  or  sent  to 
prison,  and  isn't  that  something  to  be  thank- 
ful for?" 

And  Mr.  Gray  might  have  added  that 
another  thing  to  be  grateful  for  vv^as  the  fact 
that  the  family  had  not  become  bitter  enemies, 
as  was  the  case  with  some  whose  members  had 
fought  under  the  opposing  flags.  Jack  and 
Marcy  were  strong  for  the  Union,  and  Rodney 
had  been  the  hottest  kind  of  a  rebel ;  but  that 
made  no  sort  of  change  in  the  affectionate 
regard  they  had  always  cherished  for  one 
another.  Some  Union  men  bushwhacked 
their  rebel  neighbors,  and  some  Confederate 
guerillas  relentlessly  persecuted  their  Union 
relatives  ;  but  there  was  no  such  feeling  in  the 
family  whose  boys  have  been  the  heroes  of 
this  series  of  books.  Consequently,  when  the 
next  letter  came  from  Jack,  written  at  his 
home  in  far-away  North  Carolina,  and  con- 
taining the  startling  intelligence  that  Marcy 
Gray  had  been  forced  into  the  rebel  army  in 
spite  of  all  his  efforts  to  keej)  out  of  it.  Rod- 


218  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

ney  was  as  angry  a  boy  as  you  ever  saw,  wliile 
his  father  and  mother  could  hardly  have 
expressed  more  sorrow  if  they  had  heard  that 
Marcy  had  been  killed.  The  paragraph  in 
Jack's  letter  which  contained  the  bad  news 
read  as  follows : 

"I  almost  wish  I  hadn't  been  so  anxious  to 
see  home  and  friends  once  more,  for  no  news 
at  all  is  better  than  the  crushing  words  mother 
said  to  me  as  soon  as  I  got  into  the  house.  I 
wished  I  had  stayed  in  the  service ;  and  if  I 
ever  go  back  you  may  rest  assured  that  I  shall 
fight  harder  than  I  did  before  to  put  down 
this  rebellion.  Poor  Marcy  wasn't  here  to 
welcome  me.  He  was  surprised  and  captured 
in  mother's  presence,  thrust  into  the  common 
jail  at  Williamston,  and  finally  shipped  south 
with  a  lot  of  other  conscripts,  to  act  as  guard 
at  that  horrible  prison-pen  at  Millen,  Ga. 
For  months  Marcy  had  been  a  refugee,  living 
in  the  swamp  with  a  few  other  Union  men  and 
boys  who  hid  there  to  escape  being  forced  into 
the  army,  and  until  a  few  weeks  ago  he  beat 
Beardsley,    Shelby,  Dillon,    and    the    rest   at 


BAD   NEWS   FEOM  MARCY.  219 

every  job  tlaey  tried  to  put  nj)  on  him  ;  but  he 
was  caught  napping  at  last,  and  I  never 
expect  to  see  or  hear  of  him  again.  Mother  is 
almost  broken-hearted,  but  being  a  woman  she 
bears  up  under  it  better  than  I  do.  But 
hasn't  there  been  a  time  here  since  Marcy  was 
dragged  away !  The  worli  was  done  by 
strange  soldiers,  but  Marcy' s  friends  knew 
who  was  to  blame  for  it,  and  took  vengeance 
immediately.  The  three  men  whose  names  I 
have  mentioned  were  burned  out  so  completely 
that  they  didn't  have  even  a  nigger  cabin  to 
go  into,  and  two  pestiferous  little  snipes,  Tom 
Allison  and  Mark  Goodwin  by  name,  whose 
tongues  have  kept  the  settlement  in  a  constant 
turmoil,  were  bushwhacked. 

"I  will  write  you  fuller  particulars  after  a 
while,  but  just  now  I  am  rather  'shuck  up.' 
Of  course  this  upsets  all  my  plans  ;  my  place 
is  at  home  with  mother.  I  inclose  Captain 
Frazier's  card,  to  which  I  have  appended  his 
New  Orleans  address.  I  told  him  all  about 
your  cotton,  and  he  and  the  agent  will  be  only 
too  glad  to  help  you  get  it  to  market  as  soon 
as  they  think  it  safe  to  make  the  attempt. 


220  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

You  can  trust  them,  but  be  sure  and  hold  out 
for  twenty-five  cents,  greenback  money.  Cap- 
tain Frazier  promised  me  he  would  give  it." 

The  rest  of  the  page  was  filled  with  loving 
messages  from  Marcy's  sorrowing  mother,  and 
at  the  bottom  was  a  hasty  scrawl  that  stood 
for  Sailor  Jack's   name. 

Mr.  Gray  brought  this  letter  from  Baton 
Rouge,  and  finding  Rodney  at  home  with  his 
mother,  gave  it  to  him  to  read  aloud.  The 
boy's  voice  became  husky  before  he  read  half 
a  dozen  lines,  and  Mrs.  Gray's  eyes  were  filled 
with  tears.  When  it  was  finished  Rodney 
handed  it  back  to  his  father  with  the  remark : 

"I  am  a  good  deal  of  Jack's  opinion  that 
we  shall  never  see  or  hear  of  Marcy  again.  I 
know  by  experience  that  the  petty  tyrants  we 
call  officers  make  the  service  so  hard  that  a 
volunteer  can  scarcely  stand  it,  and  how  much 
mercy  do  you  think  they  will  have  on  a  con- 
script ?  They  would  as  soon  kill  him  as  to 
look  at  him.  !N'o  better  fellow  than  Marcy 
ever  lived,  and  to  think  that  I — I  deserve  kill- 
ing myself." 


BAD   NEWS   FROM   MARCY.  221 

Rodney  arose  hastily  from  his  chair,  stag- 
gered up  to  the  room  he  still  called  his  own, 
threw  himself  upon  the  bed  and  buried  his 
tear-stained  face  in  his  hands.  He  had  not 
forgotten,  he  never  would  forget,  that  episode 
at  the  Barrington  Military  Academy  in  which 
Bud  Goble  and  his  minute-men  bore  promi- 
nent parts.  Marcy  had  freely  forgiven  him 
for  what  he  did  to  bring  it  about,  but  it  was 
always  fresh  in  Rodney's  mind.  How  terribly 
the  memory  of  it  tortured  him  now  ! 


CHAPTER  IX. 

RODNEY   IS   ASTONISHED. 

KODNEY  GRAY  had  promised  himself  no 
end  of  pleasurable  excitement  when  his 
sailor  cousin  returned  to  take  command  of 
a  trading  boat  on  the  river,  for  he  had  made 
lip  his  mind  that  he  would  accompany  Jack 
wherever  he  went.  He  was  as  well  satisfied  as 
Ned  Griffin  was  that  the  fall  of  Yicksburg  and 
Port  Hudson  would  be  the  signal  for  instant 
and  increased  activity  among  the  guerillas 
who  infested  the  country  as  far  np  as  New 
Madrid,  and  that  picking  up  cotton  along  the 
river  with  an  unarmed  boat  would  be  a  hazard- 
ous undertaking. 

The  Mississippi  is  the  most  tortuous  of 
rivers,  and  there  is  none  in  the  world  better 
adapted  to  guerilla  warfare.  Frequently  the 
distance  a  steamer  has  to  traverse  in  going 
around  a  bend  is  from  twelve  to  thirty  times 
greater  than  it  is  in  a  direct  line  across  the 

223 


EODNEY   IS   ASTONISHED.  223 

country.  The  great  bend  at  Napoleon  is  a 
notable  example.  A  steamboat  has  to  run 
fifteen  miles  to  get  around  it,  while  the  neck 
of  land  that  makes  the  bend  is  but  a  mile 
wide.  This  was  a  famous  guerilla  station 
during  the  war  until  Commander  Selfridge 
cut  a  ditch  across  the  neck  and  turned  the 
Mississippi  into  a  new  channel.  A  band  of 
guerillas,  with  a  howitzer  or  two  mounted  in 
wagons,  would  fire  into  a  transport  at  the 
upper  end  of  the  bend  (they  seldom  troubled 
armed  steamers),  and  failing  to  sink  or  disable 
her  there,  would  travel  leisurely  across  the 
country  and  be  ready  to  try  it  again  when  the 
steamboat  arrived  at  the  lower  end.  What 
made  this  sort  of  warfare  particularly  exas- 
perating was  the  fact  that  the  guerillas  did 
not  live  along  the  river,  but  came  from  remote 
points,  fifty  or  a  hundred  miles  back  in  the 
country.  If  a  gunboat  hove  in  sight  they 
would  take  to  their  heels  ;  and  if  the  gunboat 
landed  a  company  or  two  of  small-arm  men 
and  burned  the  nearest  dwellings,  as  all  gun- 
boats were  ordered  to  do  in  cases  like  the  one 
we  are  supposing,  the  chances  were  that  they 


224  SAILOE  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

punished  people  who  were  no  more  to  blame 
for  what  the  guerillas  did  than  you  or  your 
chum. 

The  majority  of  the  men  who  carried  on  this 
style  of  fighting  were  worthless  fellows,  like 
Lambert  and  Moseley,  who  had  everything  to 
make  and  nothing  to  lose  by  it ;  and  we  may 
anticipate  events  a  little  by  saying  that  they 
came  to  look  upon  trading  boats  as  their  legiti- 
mate prey.  If  there  was  a  fortune  for  the  man 
who  was  lucky  enough  to  get  a  permit  to  trade 
in  cotton,  there  was  also  plenty  of  danger  for 
him.  Rodney  would  have  entered  upon  this 
adventurous  life  with  the  same  enthusiasm  he 
exhibited  when  he  set  out  for  the  North  to  aid 
in  "driving  the  Yankees  out  of  Missouri," 
but  there  was  little  prospect  that  he  would 
ever  see  any  of  it  now  that  Jack  had  decided 
to  remain  at  home  with  his  mother.  To  do 
him  justice  he  did  not  mourn  over  his  disap- 
pointment, or  the  possible  loss  of  his  father's 
cotton,  as  he  did  over  the  dire  misfortune  that 
had  befallen  his  cousin  Marcy. 

"I  wish  I  stood  in  his  shoes  this  minute, 
and  that  he  stood  in  mine,"  Rodney  said  to 


KODNEY   IS   ASTONISHED.  225 

his  mother  more  than  once.  "I  could  stand 
the  hard  knocks  he  is  likely  to  receive,  but 
Marcy  can't." 

Remembering  that  Jack  had  promised  to 
send  "fuller  particulars"  when  he  felt  more 
in  the  humor  for  writing,  Rodney  spent  more 
time  in  riding  to  and  from  the  provost  marshal's 
office  than  he  did  in  managing  his  plantation, 
but  that  official  had  received  no  letters  for  him. 
In  the  meantime  the  situation  at  Vicksburg 
grew  more  encouraging  every  day.  Severe 
battles  had  been  fought  and  the  soldiers  of 
the  Union,  always  victorious,  had  gained  a 
footing  below  Vicksburg  where  there  was  no 
water  to  interfere  with  their  movements,  as 
there  was  in  the  inundated  Yazoo  country,  and 
Colonel  Grierson,  at  the  head  of  seventeen 
hundred  cavalry,  was  raiding  through  the 
State  in  the  direction  of  Baton  Rouge,  stealing 
nothing  but  fresh  horses  and  food  for  his  men, 
but  thrashing  the  rebels  whenever  he  met 
them  (except  on  one  occasion  when  he  lost 
seven  hundred  men  in  a  single  engagement), 
cutting  railroads  and  telegraph  lines  in  every 
direction,  and  destroying  commissary    trains 

15 


226  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TEADEE. 

and  depots  by  tlie  score.  It  was  this  famous 
raid  which  first  "demonstrated  that  the  Con- 
federacy was  but  a  shell,  strong  on  the  outside 
by  reason  of  its  organized  armies,  but  hollow 
within  and  destitute  of  resources  to  sustain, 
or  of  strength   to   recruit   these  armies." 

"They  say  he's  coming  sure  enough,"  re- 
marked Ned  Griffin  one  day,  "although  in 
some  i^laces  he  has  had  to  ride  over  wide 
stretches  of  country  where  the  water  stood  six 
feet  deep  on  a  level.  That's  pluck.  What  are 
you  going  to  do  with  our  exemption  bacon  ?" 

"And  our  horses,"  added  Rodney.  "If 
the  Yanks  are  hungry  when  they  reach  this 
plantation,  they  can  take  the  exemption  bacon 
and  welcome.  Td  much  rather  they  should 
have  it  than  it  should  go  to  feed  rebels.  But 
our  horses  they  can't  have  ;  or  at  least  they'll 
have  to  hunt  for  them  before  they  get  them. 
Where  is  Grierson  noAv  ? " 

"They've  got  the  report  in  Mooreville  that 
he  was  last  heard  from  up  about  Port  Hud- 
son," rei)lied  ISTed. 

"  Then  we've  no  time  to  lose,"  said  Rodney. 
"  His  soouts,  of  course,  are  a  long  way  ahead 


RODKEY   IS   ASTONISHED.  227 

of  him,  and  may  be  here  any  hour.  Let's  take 
care  of  the  horses  the  first  thing  we  do. 
There's  nothing  else  on  your  place  or  mine 
worth  stealing,  unless  it  is  the  bacon." 

The  boys  were  none  too  soon  in  looking  out 
for  their  riding  nags,  for  the  expected  scouts 
arrived  the  next  morning  about  breakfast 
time,  and  although  Rodney  had  seen  some 
dusty,  dirty,  and  ragged  soldiers  in  his  day,  he 
told  himself  that  these  rough-riding  Yankees, 
who  threw  down  his  bars  and  rode  into  the 
yard  as  though  they  had  a  perfect  right  there, 
would  bear  off  the  palm.  They  were  a  jovial, 
good-natured  lot,  however,  and  well  tliey 
might  be  ;  for  their  long  raid  from  La  Grange, 
Tenn.,  was  nearly  finished.  Another  night 
would  see  them  safely  quartered  among  their 
friends  in  Baton  Rouge. 

"  Hallo,  Johnny,"  was  the  way  in  which  the 
foremost  soldier  greeted  Rodney,  who  advanced 
to  meet  the  raiders.  "  Where's  your  well  or 
spring  or  whatever  it  is  you  get  drinking  water 
from  ?  Any  graybacks  around  here  ?  Trot 
out  your  guns  and  things  of  that  sort,  and  save 
us  the  trouble  of  looking  for  them." 


228  SAILOE  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

"The  well  is  around  there,"  replied  Rodney, 
jerking  his  thumb  over  his  shoulder.  "And 
there's  nothing  in  the  house  more  dangerous 
than  a  case-knife.  If  you  don' t  believe  it,  look 
and  see." 

This  invitation  was  quite  superfluous,  for 
some  of  the  raiders,  who  had  ridden  around  to 
the  well  and  dismounted,  were  in  the  house 
almost  before  Rodney  ceased  speaking.  He 
heard  their  heavy  footsteps  in  the  hall  in 
which  his  black  housekeeper  had  just  finished 
laying  the  breakfast,  and  when  he  turned 
about  they  had  cleared  the  table  of  the  victuals 
they  found  on  it,  and  one  was  in  the  act  of 
draining   the   coffee-pot. 

"Where  are  all- your  horses,  Johnny?" 
asked  the  latter,  as  he  put  down  his  empty 
cup.  "Mine's  played  out,  and  I  must  have 
another." 

"  You'll  not  find  him  on  this  plantation," 
was  the  reply.  "  General  Breckenridge's  men 
passed  through  here  not  long  ago,  and  that 
means  that  there  are  few  horses  in  the  country. 
If  yours  has  given  out  you  will  have  to  take 
a  mule  or  walk." 


EODNEY   IS   ASTONISHED.  229 

"  How  does  it  come  that  you  are  not  in  the 
army  ?  "  inquired  another,  with  his  mouth  full 
of  bacon  and  corn  pone. 

"I've  been  there,  but  you  Yanks  whipped 
me  so  bad  I  was  glad  to  get  home." 

By  this  time  the  lieutenant  in  command  of 
the  troopers  had  made  himself  known,  and  to 
him  Rodney  presented  his  papers,  which  in- 
cluded his  discharge,  standing  pass  from  the 
provost  marshal,  and  his  permit  to  trade  within 
the  Union  lines.  As  he  handed  the  papers  to 
the  officer  his  attention  was  drawn  to  two  per- 
sons near  him,  who  were  by  far  the  most  dilap- 
idated specimens  of  humanity  Rodney  had 
ever  seen.  Every  line  of  their  faces  was  indic- 
ative of  exposure  and  suffering,  and  their 
clothing,  what  little  they  wore,  looked  as 
though  it  might  fall  in  pieces  at  any  moment. 
They  were  plainly  fit  candidates  for  the  hos- 
pital, and  it  was  a  mystery  to  Rodney  how 
they  managed  to  keep  the  heavy  infantry  mus- 
kets which  rested  across  their  saddles  from 
slipping  out  of  their  grasp.  By  the  time  he 
made  these  observations  the  lieutenant  had 
read  the  first  line  of  the  pass,  which  happened 


230  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

to  be  the  first  paper  he  opened,  and  when  he 
saw  the  name  it  bore  he  looked  at  one  of  the 
dilapidated  specimens  of  whom  we  have  spoken 
and  said,  with  a  grin  : 

"If  you  have  been  telling  a  straight  story, 
Johnny,  how  does  it  come  that  you  don't 
recognize  your  cousin  when  you  see  him  stand- 
ing before  your  face  and  eyes  ? " 

Rodney  Gray  was  utterly  confounded.  He 
looked  at  the  officer  and  then  at  the  person  to 
whom  the  words  were  addressed,  but  he  could 
not  speak  until  he  heard  the  reply  given  in 
a  familiar  voice : 

"  I  have  told  you  nothing  but  the  truth,  sir, 
and  if  that  is  Rodney  Gray  he  will  bear  me 
out  in  everything  I  have  said." 

The  sick  and  exhausted  stranger  reeled 
about  on  his  mule  for  an  instant,  his  musket 
fell  to  the  ground,  and  he  would  have  fol- 
lowed headlong  if  Rodney  had  not  sprung 
forward  and  received  him  in  his  arms.  He 
eased  him  tenderly  to  the  ground,  supported 
his  head  on  one  knee,  and  looked  up  at  the 
lieutenant. 

"  Who  is  it  ?  "  he  asked  in  a  husky  voice. 


RODNEY   IS   ASTONISHED.  231 

"  He  says  liis  name  is  Marcy  Gray,  that  lie 
lives  in  North  Carolina,  and  is  an  escaped  con- 
script," was  the  answer.  "That's  all  I  know 
about  him.  Captain  Forbes  picked  him  and 
his  partner  up  somewhere  about  Enterprise, 
and  they've   been   with  us   ever  since." 

Rodney  took  one  more  glance  at  the  white 
face  on  his  knee,  and  then  raised  the  limp, 
almost  lifeless  form  in  his  arms,  carried  it 
into  the  house,  and  laid  it  on  his  own  bed. 

"I  said  you  could  never  stand  the  hard 
knocks  that  would  be  given  to  a  conscript, 
and  I  reckon  you've  found  it  out,  haven't 
you?"  were   the   first   words  he   spoke. 

But  Marcy — Rodney  began  to  believe  now 
that  it  was  really  his  cousin  Marcj  who  had 
come  to  him  in  this  strange  way,  though  he 
never  would  have  suspected  it  if  the  officer  had 
not  told  him  so — did  not  even  whisper  a  reply. 
He  never  moved  a  finger,  but  lay  motionless 
where  Rodney  had  placed  him.  He  was  so 
still,  his  face  was  so  white,  and  his  faint  breath 
came  at  so  long  intervals  that  Rodney  feared 
he  was  already  past  such  help  as  he  could  give 
him  ;    and  it  was  not  until  half  a  bucket  of 


232  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

water  had  been  dashed  into  his  face,  a  cupful 
at  a  time,  that  he  began  showing  any  signs  of 
life.  Then  he  i^ut  his  arms  around  his  cousin's 
neck  and  drew  the  latter' s  tanned  face  close 
to  his  own  white  one  ;  but  it  was  very  little 
strength   he   could   put   into   the   embrace. 

"O  Rodney,  I  am  so  tired,"  he  said,  in  a 
scarcely  audible  whisper. 

"It's  a  wonder  you  are  not  dead,"  replied 
his  cousin  in  a  choking  voice,  "  I  never 
thought  to  see  you  again,  but  you  are  all  right 
now.  Every  Yank  in  this  country  is  my 
friend." 

"Then  look  out  for  Charley,  and  don't  let 
them  hurt  him,"  whispered  Marcy,  for  he  was 
too  weak  to  talk.  "They  haven't  been  very 
civil  to  us,  for  they  think  we  are  spies  sent  out 
to  draw  them  into  ambush." 

"You  look  like  it,  I  must  say,"  exclaimed 
Rodney.     "But  who  is   Charley?" 

"Charley  Bo  wen,  my  partner;  the  man 
who  escaped  when  I  did,  and  who  has  stuck  to 
me  like  a  brotlier  through  it  all.  He  knows 
the  country,  and  if  it  hadn't  been  for  him  I 
wouldn't  have  got  ten  miles  from  the  stockade. 


RODNEY   IS   ASTONISHED.  233 

Give  me  a  big  drink  of  water,  and  then  go  out 
and  say  a  good  word  for  him.  Bring  him  in 
if  they  will  let  you." 

After  Marcy  had  drained  the  cup  that  Avas 
held  to  his  lips  Rodney  hastened  out  to  see 
what  he  could  do  for  Charley,  and  to  secure 
his  papers,  which  were  worth  more  than  their 
weight  in  gold  to  him.  He  found  them  on  the 
gallery  where  the  lieutenant  had  left  them,  and 
the  lieutenant  himself  was  in  the  back  yard 
looking  on  while  one  of  the  soldiers  shifted  his 
saddle  from  his  broken-down  beast  to  the  back 
of  one  of  Rodney's  plough-mules,  all  of  which 
had  been  brought  in  from  the  field. 

"A  fair  exchange  is  no  robbery,  Johnny," 
said  the  officer,  as  Rodney  approached  him. 
"And  besides,  you  get  the  butt  end  of  this 
trade.  My  mule  is  bigger  than  yours,  and 
will  be  better  and  stronger  after  he  has  had  a 
rest  and  a  chance  to  fill  out." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  those  con- 
scripts ? "  inquired  Rodney. 

"I  haven't  orders  to  do  anything  with 
them,"  answered  the  lieutenant.  "But  of 
course  I  am  expected  to  take  them  to  Baton 


234  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

Rouge  and  turn  them  over  to  the  provost 
marshal." 

"  Why  can't  you  leave  them  here  with  me  ? 
I  will  look  out  for  them." 

"And  you  a  discharged  rebel?  You're  a 
cool  one,   Johnny." 

"But  that  boy  in  the  house  is  my  cousin, 
and  as  strong  for  the  Union  as  you  or  any 
man  in  your  squad.  Besides,  he  is  ill  and 
can't  go  any  farther,  and  he  wants  his  partner 
to  stay  with  him.  If  the  provost  marshal 
doesn't  tell  you  that  I  am  all  right  with  the 
authorities  in  Baton  Rouge,  you  can  come 
back  here  and  get  him." 

"You  are  very  kind;  but  we  are  not 
making  any  excursions  into  the  country  just 
for  the  fun  of  the  thing.  We  have  ridden 
far  enough  already.  What's  the  matter  out 
there,  Allen?" 

"Big  dust  up  the  road,  sir,"  replied  the 
soldier  who  had  been  left  at  the  bars.  "  Com- 
ing fast  too,  sir." 

"Boots  and  saddles!"  exclaimed  the  lieu- 
tenant, throwing  himself  on  the  back  of  Rod- 
ney's plough-mule.     "  Sergeant,  form  skirmish- 


EODNEY   IS   ASTONISHED.  235 

line  among  tlie  trees  to  the  right  of  the 
house." 

"You're  taking  trouble  for  nothing,"  said 
Rodney.  ' '  There  are  no  rebs  about  here. 
That's  a  Yankee  scouting  party  from  Baton 
Rouge." 

The  lieutenant  didn't  know  whether  it  was 
or  not,  and  so,  like  a  good  soldier,  he  made 
ready  to  fight,  and  to  send  word  to  his  superior 
in  the  rear  if  he  found  himself  confronted  by 
a  force  of  the  enemy  too  strong  for  him  to 
withstand.  He  kept  his  eye  on  the  sentry, 
who  had  faced  his  horse  toward  the  bars  in 
readiness  to  dash  through  them  and  join  his 
comrades  if  the  rajpidly  approaching  squad 
proved  to  be  rebels,  but  he  did  not  retreat, 
nor  did  he  discharge  his  carbine,  which  he 
held  at  "arms  port."  He  stuck  to  his  post 
until  the  foremost  of  the  squad  rode  into 
view  around  a  turn  in  the  road  and  then 
called  out : 

"  Who  comes  there  ?  " 

Rodney  did  not  hear  the  reply,  and  the  chal- 
lenged parties  were  concealed  from  his  sight 
by  trees  and  bushes  ;  but  he  knew  they  were 


236  SAILOR   JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

Federal  troopers  when  he  heard  the  sentry 
continue  : 

"Halt!  Dismount!  Advance  one  friend 
and  give  an  account  of  yourself."  Then  he 
waved  his  hand  toward  the  house  as  a  signal 
for  some  officer  to  come  out  and  receive  the 
report. 

The  lieutenant  answered  the  signal  and 
Rodney  went  with  him  ;  and  when  he  reached 
the  bars  whom  should  he  see  standing  in  the 
road  talking  to  the  sentry  but  the  corporal  of 
the  — til  Michigan  cavalry,  who  seemed  to 
have  a  way  of  turning  up  most  opportunely. 
He  shook  hands  with  Rodney,  and  told  the 
lieutenant  that  he  had  been  sent  out  with  a 
few  men  to  see  if  he  could  learn  anything 
about  Colonel  Grierson,  who  ought  to  have 
been  safe  in  Baton  Rouge  two  or  three  days 
ago. 

"Judging  by  their  looks,  and  the  way  they 
eat  and  trade  mules,  these  are  some  of  Grier- 
son's  men,"  said  Rodney. 

The  lieutenant  corroborated  the  statement, 
and  said  that  the  reason  they  had  been  so  long 
delayed  was  because  they  were  obliged  to  pass 


RODNEY   IS   ASTONISHED.  237 

tlirougli  miles  of  bottom  land  where  the  water 
was  almost  swimming  deep.  The  colonel  was 
but  a  short  distance  in  the  rear,  and  might  be 
expected  to  come  along  any  moment.  Then 
he  plied  the  corporal  with  questions  as  to  what 
Grant  and  Porter  were  doing  at  Vicksburg, 
and  it  was  not  until  his  patience  was  well-nigh 
exhausted  that  Rodney  saw  opportunity  to 
say  a  word  for  himself.  The  instant  there  was 
a  pause  in  the  conversation  he  broke  in  with  : 

"Now,  corporal,  be  kind  enough  to  tell  the 
lieutenant  how  I  stand  with  the  provost 
marshal." 

"All  right  in  every  spot  and  place,"  rei)lied 
the  soldier  quickly.  "What's  the  matter? 
Have  these  raiders  been  stealing  something?" 

"  Oh,  I  don't  mind  the  little  grub  they  ate, 
or  the  mules  they  took  in  exchange  for  their 
crow-baits,"  answered  Rodney.  "They're 
welcome  to  everything  on  the  place  if  they 
will  only  leave  my  cousin  with  me.  Is  my 
word  good  when  I  say  that  I  will  be  responsi- 
ble for  his  safe  keeping  ? " 

"Your  word  is  always  good,"  said  the  cor- 
poral, who  was  much  astonished.     "But  how 


238  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

came  your  cousin  back  liere?  I  thought  he 
went  to  New  Orleans  to  ship  on  a  cotton 
boat." 

"But  this  is  another  one — his  brother 
Marcy,  who  came  here  with  these  Yanks. 
They'll  kill  him  if  they  try  to  take  him  any 
farther,  and  I  want  him  left  here  with  me. 
His  partner,  too." 

"Well,  if  this  isn't  a  little  ahead  of  any- 
thing I  ever  heard  of  I  wouldn't  say  so," 
exclaimed  the  corporal.  "Where  did  you 
pick  him   up,  lieutenant?" 

The  latter  explained  briefly,  as  we  shall  do 
presently,  adding  that  he  didn't  think  he  had 
any  right  to  grant  Rodney's  request. 

"  I  didn't  really  suppose  you  had,  sir,"  said 
the  corporal.  "But  I  was  going  to  make  a 
suggestion.  I  will  ride  on  until  I  meet  the 
colonel — that  is  what  my  orders  oblige  me  to 
do — and  when  I  see  a  chance  I'll  say — have 
you  got  any  grub  in   the   house?" 

"Plenty  of  it,  such  as  it  is,"  answered 
-Rodney. 

"It's  good  enough  for  a  hungry  soldier,  I'll 
be  bound.     Tell  your  housekeeper  to  dish  up 


EODNEY   IS   ASTONISHED.  239 

enough  for  tlie  colonel  and  tliree  or  four  of  liis 
staff,  and  I'll  ride  on  and  ask  liim  if  lie's 
hungry.  He  can't  well  help  it  after  such  a 
raid  as  he  has  made,  and  then  I'll  tell  him 
that  I  know  where  he  can  get  a  good  break- 
fast and  bring  him  right  here  to  your  house. 
After  he  has  eaten  his  fill  he'll  be  good- 
natured,  and  then  you  and  I  will  talk  to  him 
about  your  cousin." 

The  lieutenant  laughed  heartily  as  he 
listened  to  this  programme.  "It's  a  very 
ingenious  arrangement,  corporal,"  said  he,  as 
the  non-commissioned  ofiicer  beckoned  to  his 
men,  who  were  still  waiting  at  the  place  where 
they  had  been  halted  by  the  sentry.  "And  I 
think  it  ought  to  succeed.  But  as  I  can't 
wait  for  the  colonel  without  disobeying  my 
orders,  which  are  to  scout  on  ahead,  what 
shall   I  do  with  the  conscripts?" 

"Leave  a  guard  Avitli  them,"  suggested 
Rodney. 

"I  suppose  I  might  do  that,  and  since  the 
colonel  is  a  volunteer  like  myself,  I'll  risk  it. 
If  he  were  a  regular  I  wouldn'  t  think  of  it  for 
a  moment." 


240  SAILOR   JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

"  Another  cousin  !  "  muttered  the  corporal, 
as  he  swung  himself  into  his  saddle.  "How- 
many  more  of  your  family  are  going  to  fall 
down  on  you  out  of  the  clouds?  It's  the 
strangest  thing  I   ever  heard   of." 

"And  you'll  never  hear  the  like  again," 
answered  Rodney.  "But  I  do  not  look  for 
any  more.     Two   cousins  are   all   I  have," 

The  corporal  laughed  and  rode  on  up  the 
road  to  meet  the  expected  raiders,  and  the 
lieutenant  told  his  sergeant  to  call  in  the  men 
who  were  still  holding  their  positions  on  the 
skirmish-line  which  had  been  formed  when 
that  warning  dust  was  seen  rising  above  the 
tree-tops.  He  told  Charley  Bowen  that  he 
could  remain  behind  to  receive  orders  from 
Colonel  Grierson  when  he  arrived,  and  detailed 
two  troopers  to  keep  watch  on  him  and  Marcy 
Gray. 

"This  isn't  at  all  regular;  I  ought  to  take 
those  conscripts  to  Baton  Rouge,  and  I  am 
soldier  enough  to  know  it,"  said  the  lieuten- 
ant, addressing  himself  to  Rodney.  "But 
you  seem  to  be  all  right  with  that  corporal, 
and  if  you  and  he  can  make  it  all  right  with 


RODNEY   IS   ASTONISHED.  241 

Colonel  Grierson  I  shall  be  glad  of  it.  I  have 
heard  your  cousin's  story  and  should  be  glad 
to  listen  to  the  additions  I  know  you  can  make 
to  it,  but  haven't  time  just  now." 

"  It  confirms  one's  faith  in  human  nature  to 
meet  a  kind-hearted  soldier  now  and  then," 
said  Rodney,  who  knew  that  the  lieutenant 
could  have  compelled  the  conscripts  to  go  on 
with  him  if  he  had  been  so  disposed.  "  I  am 
very  grateful  to  you,  and  will  do  you  a  good 
turn  if  I  get  half  a  chance.  Whenever  you 
scout  through  this  country  drop  in  and  have  a 
bowl  of  milk.  I  can't  offer  you  any  to-day,  for 
your  men  have  made  away  with  all  I  had. 
Good-by.  This  is  what  I  get  by  befriending 
escaped  prisoners,"  he  added  mentally,  as  he 
started  on  a  run  for  the  house.  "  If  I  hadn't 
taken  so  much  trouble  to  help  that  corporal 
where   Avould   Marcy  be  now?" 

As  it  was,  he  was  lying  at  his  ease  on 
Rodney's,  bed  instead  of  riding  along  the 
dusty  road  toward  Baton  Rouge,  reeling  in  his 
seat  from  very  weakness.  Charley  Bowen  sat 
close  by  holding  his  hand,  and  the  two 
troopers  who  had  been  detailed  to  guard  them 
16 


242  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

were  lounging  on  tlie  gallery  just  outside  the 
window.  The  hand  that  rested  in  Bowen's 
palm  was  not  white  like  its  owner's  face,  but 
very  much  swollen  and  discolored,  and  Rod- 
ney noticed  it  at  once. 

"What's  the  matter?"  he  inquired. 
"How  did   you  get  hurt?" 

"He  was  triced  up  by  the  thumbs  till  he 
fainted,"  replied  Bo  wen,  si)eaking  for  his 
comcade. 

Rodney's  face  turned  all  sorts  of  colors. 

"General  Lee  himself  couldn't  make  me 
believe  that  the  punishment  was  deserved," 
said  he  through  his  teeth.  "  That  boy  drilled 
alongside  of  me  for  almost  four  years  at  the 
Barrington  Military  Academy,  and  a  better 
soldier  never  shouldered  a  musket.  He  knows 
more  than  the  man  who  triced  him  up.  What 
was  it  done  for  ? ' ' 

"Because  Marcy  didn't  shoot  a  Yankee 
prisoner  wliose  hand  was  inside  the  dead- 
line," replied   Bowen. 

"And  his  hand  wasn't  inside  the  dead- 
line," said  Marcy  in  a  faint  voice.  "It  was 
under  the  rail  which  marked  the  line,  and  the 


RODNEY   IS   ASTONISHED.  243 

poor  fellow  was  trying  to  get  hold  of  an  old 
tin  cup  that  someone  had  thrown  there,  so 
that  he  could  dig  a  hole  in  the  ground  to  pro- 
tect him  from  the  weather.  If  I  had  been  a 
volunteer  and  had  shot  that  man,  I  would 
have  received  a  month's  leave   of  absence." 

Rodney  sat  down  on  the  edge  of  the  bed 
and  looked  at  the  two  troopers  who  were  lean- 
ing half-way  through  the  window,  listening. 
His  face  showed  that  he  could  hardly  believe 
the  story  even  if  his  cousin  did  tell  it. 

"There's  a  man  in  our  company  who 
escaped  from  Andersonville,  and  he  declares 
that  such  things  really  happened,"  said  one  of 
the  soldiers.  "  Besides  being  starved  to  death 
our  fellows  are  shot  without  any  provocation 
at  all." 

"And  because  you  wouldn't  murder  that 
Yankee'  somebody  triced  you  up  by  the 
thumbs,"  said  Rodney  in  a  voice  that  was 
choked  with  anger.     "Who  reported  you?" 

"The  sentry  in  the  next  box,  who  saw  it 
all,"  replied  Marcy.  "He  tried  to  get  a  shot 
at  the  man  himself,  but  the  prisoner's  friends 
closed  around  him  and  hustled  him  out  of 


244  SAILOK  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

sight ;  and  tliat  made  the  sentry  so  angry  that 
he  reported  me  before  we  were  relieved  from 
post." 

"How  can  the  rebels  hope  to  win  in  this 
war  when  they  torture  their  own  men  for 
not  committing  murder  ?  "  exclaimed  Rodney 
hotly. 

"Why,  I  thought  you  were  a  rebel,"  said 
one  of  the  soldiers  at  the  window, 

"So  I  was,"  answered  Rodney  honestly. 
"  But,  as  I  have  said  a  hundred  times  before, 
I  know  when  I  have  had  enough.  When  I 
was  whipped  I  quit." 

Both  the  troopers  extended  their  hands,  and 
after  Rodney  had  shaken  them  cordially  he 
walked  over  and  shook  hands  with  Charley 
Bo  wen,  and  tried  to  thank  him  for  what  he 
had  done  for  Marcy  ;  but  his  voice  grew  husky 
and  finally  broke,  and  so  he  gave  it  up  as  a 
task  beyond  his  i^owers. 

"I  am  a  Georgia  cracker,"  said  Bowen, 
"  and  the  boys  used  to  call  me  '  goober-grab- 
bler'  ;  but  I  know  a  good  fellow  when  I  see 
him,  and  I  don't  want  any  thanks  for  doing 
for  your  cousin  what  I  am  sure  he  would  have 


RODNEY   IS   ASTONISHED.  245 

done  for  me  if  he  had  known  the  country  as 
well  as  I  do.  He  assured  me  that  we  could 
find  friends  if  I  would  guide  him  to  Baton 
Rouge,  and  I  was  doing  the  best  I  could  at  it 
when  we  fell  in  with  Captain  Forbes." 

"I  know  I  should  never  have  seen  Marcy 
again  if  it  hadn't  been  for  you,  because  he  told 
me  so,  and  you  are  more  than  welcome  to  a 
share  in  everything  the  war  has  left  us.  Now 
I  must  tear  myself  away  for  a  few  minutes,  for 
I  have  work  to  do.  Don't  let  Marcy  talk  ;  he 
is  too  weak." 

So  saying  Rodney  hastened  from  the  room 
to  order  Colonel  Grierson's  breakfast,  and  to 
write  a  short  note  to  his  mother,  requesting 
that  the  only  doctor  in  the  country  for  miles 
around  who  had  been  able  to  keep  out  of  the 
army  might  be  sent  to  his  plantation  as  soon 
as  he  could  be  found,  to  prescribe  for  Marcy 
Gray,  who  had  come  to  him  in  a  most  remarka- 
ble manner.  He  didn't  stop  to  exj)lain  how, 
for  he  hadn't  time;  but  he  made  his  mother 
understand  that  Marcy  was  in  need  of  prompt 
medical  attention.  Rodney  knew  that  his 
father  would  at  once  answer  the  note  in  per- 


246  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

son,  and  when  lie  arrived  he  could  tell  him 
as  much  of  his  cousin's  story  as  he  knew 
himself. 

The  note  was  sent  off  by  one  of  the  negroes, 
who  was  quickly  summoned  from  the  field  to 
take  it ;  and  after  Rodney  had  satisfied  him- 
self that  the  colonel's  breakfast  was  coming 
on  as  well  as  he  could  desire,  and  had  given 
instructions  regarding  a  second  meal  that  was 
to  be  made  ready  for  the  conscripts  and  their 
guards,  he  went  back  to  Marcy. 


CHAPTER  X. 
MAKE  Goodwin's  plan. 

MATTERS  could  not  have  worked  more  to 
Rodney  Gray's  satisfaction  if  lie  had 
had  the  planning  of  them  himself.  The  hasty 
note  lie  wrote  to  his  mother  brought  Mr.  Gray 
to  the  plantation  within  an  hour,  and  with 
him  came  the  doctor,  who,  for  a  wonder,  Avas 
found  at  home  by  the  messenger  whom  Mrs. 
Gray  had  despatched  to  bring  him.  He 
lanced  Marcy's  hands,  which  had  not  received 
the  least  medical  attention  since  the  day  they 
were  wounded  by  the  cruel  cord  that  held  him 
suspended  in  the  air  so  that  his  toes  barely 
touched  the  ground,  bandaged  them  in  good 
shape,  and  gave  him  some  medicine  ;  and  all 
the  time  Mr.  Gray  stood  in  an  adjoining  room 
listening,  while  his  eyes  grew  moist,  to  Rod- 
ney's hurried  description  of  the  events  of  the 
morning.     Before  he  had  time  to  ask  many 

247 


248  SAILOE  JACK,  THE   TEADER. 

questions  tlie  bars  rattled  again,  and  the 
hounds  gave  tongue  as  Colonel  Grierson  and 
two  or  three  of  his  officers  rode  into  the  yard. 
His  weary,  travel-stained  soldiers  were  close 
behind,  but  the  most  of  them  kept  on  down 
the  road,  while  only  a  small  body-guard 
remained  to  watch  over  the  safety  of  the  com- 
manding officer.  Rodney's  friend  the  cor- 
poral came  into  the  yard  with  the  colonel,  and 
winked  and  nodded  in  a  way  that  was  very 
encouraging.  Rodney  stood  on  the  veranda 
and  saluted,  while  the  two  trooi)ers  seized 
their  carbines  and  presented  arms. 

"Come  right  in,  sir,"  said  the  boy.  "I 
have  been  waiting  for  you." 

"  Thank  you.  The  corporal  promised  us  a 
breakfast  if  Ave  would  stop  here,  and  so  we 
thought  it  advisable  to  stop.  I  hope  you'll 
not  object  if  we  sit  down  just  as  we  are,"  said 
the  colonel,  who  was  as  dirty  and  ragged  as 
any  of  his  men,  "for  we  have  scant  time  to 
stand  on  ceremony.  Are  these  the  guards 
that  were  left  with  the  conscripts  ?  Forbes, 
step  in  and  see  if  they  are  the  ones  you  picked 
np  at  Enterprise." 


MARK  Goodwin's  plan.  249 

Forbes  was  the  captain  who  had  been  sent 
with  a  squad  of  thirty-five  men  to  perform  the 
perilous  duty  of  cutting  the  telegraph-wires 
north  of  Macon,  and  the  gallant  and  daring 
exploit  by  Avhich  he  saved  his  small  force 
from  falling  into  the  clutches  of  three  thou- 
sand rebels  we  have  yet  to  describe.  He 
recognized  Marcy  and  his  friend  Bo  wen  as  tlie 
conscripts  who  had  surrendered  themselves 
to  him  at  Enterprise,  shook  hands  with  one, 
patted  the  other  on  the  head  and  said  he 
guessed  it  was  all  right,  and  that  they  could 
remain  with  Rodney  as  long  as  they  pleased. 

"There,"  said  the  doctor.  "Those  words 
will  do  the  patient  more  good  than  all  the 
medicine  I  could  give  him.  Homesickness  is 
what  troubles  him  more  than  anything  else, 
but  now  that  he  is  safe  among  his  relatives  he 
will  soon  get  over  that." 

Captain  Forbes  replied  that  he  hoped  so,  and 
went  out  to  join  the  colonel  at  the  table,  while 
Rodney  made  haste  to  serve  up  the  breakfast 
that  had  been  prepared  for  the  two  conscripts 
and  their  guards.  Of  course  the  corporal  was 
not  forgotten,  and  he  said  he  had  been  living 


250  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

on  army  bacon  and  hard-tack  just  long  enough 
to  give  him  a  sharp  appetite  for  the  chicken 
and  corn  bread  with  which  his  plate  was  filled. 
When  Rodney  went  into  the  hall  to  see  if  his 
other  guests  were  well  served,  Captain  Forbes 
cheered  his  heart  by  remarking  that,  as  the 
conscripts  were  not  prisoners,  they  were  at 
liberty  to  do  as  they  pleased  about  going  or 
staying. 

In  twenty  minutes  more  the  colonel  had 
galloped  away  with  his  body-guard,  the  plan- 
tation house  was  quiet,  Marcy  was  sleeping 
the  sleep  of  exhaustion,  and  Charley  Bowen 
was  sitting  on  the  j)Oi'ch  with  Mr.  Gray  and 
Rodney,  who  listened  with  deep  interest  while 
lie  told  of  the  adventures  that  had  befallen 
him  and  his  partner  since  they  took  leave  of 
the  stockade  at  Millen,  which  was  as  much  of 
a  prison  to  the  conscript  guards  as  it  was  to  the 
unhappy  Union  soldiers  who  were  confined  on 
the  inside.  Their  food  was  of  rather  better 
quality,  and  they  had  more  of  it ;  but  that  was 
about  all  the  difference  there  was  between 
them.  Bowen' s  short  narrative  prepared  them 
to    hear    something  interesting  when  Marcy 


MARK  Goodwin's  plan.  251 

a.woke ;  but  that  did  not  liai)pen  for  eighteen 
hours,  and  during  that  time  the  doctor  made 
a  second  visit  and  Mr.  Gray  went  home  and 
brought  his  wife,  who  shed  tears  abundantly 
when  she  saw  the  thin,  wan  face  on  the  pillow. 
But  his  long  refreshing  sleep  and  the  knowl- 
edge that  he  was  among  friends,  and  that  the 
dreaded  stockade  with  all  its  harrowing 
associations  was  miles  away,  never  to  come 
before  him  again  except  in  his  dreams,  did 
wonders  for  Marcy  Gray.  When  he  awoke 
his  eye  was  as  bright  as  ever,  and  the  strong 
voice  in  which  he  called  out:  "If  there  is  a 
good  Samaritan  in  this  house  I  wish  he  would 
bring  me  a  drink  of  water,"  was  delightful  to 
hear.  Rodney,  who  had  just  arisen  from  the 
lounge  on  which  he  had  passed  the  night  in 
an  adjoining  room,  lost  no  time  in  bringing 
the  water,  and  his  cousin's  hearty  greeting 
reminded  him  of  the  good  old  days  at  Barring- 
ton  before  the  war  came  with  its  attendant 
horrors,  and  set  the  boys  of  the  family  to 
fighting  under  different  flags. 

"The  only  thing  I  have  had  enough  of  since 
I  left  home  is  water,"  said  Marcy ;  and  Rod- 


252  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

noy  was  glad  to  see  that  lie  Avas  strong  enough 
to  sit  up  in  bed  and  hold  the  cup  with  his  own 
hand.  "  This  isn't  all  a  dream,  is  it  ?  If  it  is, 
I  hope  I  shall  never  wake  up." 

"It  is  not  a  dream,"  Rodney  assured  him. 
"Look  at  your  hands.  Do  you  dream  that  it 
hurts  you  to  move  them  ?  And  do  you  dream 
that  you  see  your  aunt?"  he  added,  making 
way  for  Mrs.  Gray,  who  at  that  moment  came 
into  the  room  and  bent  over  the  couch. 

Another  good  sign  was  that  Marcy  awoke 
hungry.  He  did  not  say  so,  for  it  was  too  early 
in  the  morning  for  breakfast  and  Marcy  never 
made  trouble  if  he  could  help  it ;  but  Rodney 
suspected  it,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the  banging 
of  stove-lids  bore  testimony  that  he  was  busy 
in  the  kitchen,  where  he  was  soon  joined  by 
Charley  Bowen,  who  said  he  was  the  best  cook 
in  Georgia.  The  latter  had  been  given  a  room 
to  himself,  but  finding  the  shuck  mattress  too 
soft  and  w^arm  for  com  fort,  he  went  out  on  the 
gallery  during  the  night  and  slept  there,  with 
Rodnej-'s  hounds  for  company.  While  these 
two  worked  in  the  kitchen,  Mrs.  Gray  sat  by 
Marcv's  bedside  and  told  him  of  Sailor  Jack's 


MARK  Goodwin's  platst,  253 

visit,  and  of  the  letters  tliat  had  since  been 
received  from  him,  so  he  could  understand 
that,  although  his  sudden  appearance  was  a 
great  surprise  to  his  friends,  it  was  not  quite 
as  bewildering  as  it  would  have  been  had  they 
not  been  aware  that  he  was  doing  guard  duty 
at  Milieu.  She  was  going  on  to  tell  of  Jack's 
plans,  which  had  been  upset  by  Marcy's  arrest, 
when  Rodney,  who  stood  in  the  door  listening, 
broke  in  with : 

'^What  will  you  put  up  against  my  roll  of 
Confederate  scrip  that  we  don't  see  Jack  in  this 
country  again  in  less  than  a  month?  I  wrote 
him  yesterday,  and  it  was  a  letter  that  will 
bring  him  as  quickly  as  he  can  come  ;  that  is, 
if  he  thinks  it  safe  to  leave  his  mother.  And, 
Marcy,  you'll  have  to  stay,  for  you  can't  go 
back  among  those  rebels  without  running  the 
risk  of  being  dragged  off  again  ;  and  I  know 
what  I  am  talking  about  when  I  say  that  in 
our  army  desertion  means  death." 

"What  sort  of  a  fellow  are  you  to  talk 
about  'rebels'  and  'our  army'  in  the  same 
breath?''  demanded   Marcy. 

"  I  am  as  strong  for  the  Union  as  General 


254  SAILOK  JACK,  THE  TEADEE. 

Grant,  and  wish  I  could  do  as  much  for  it  as 
he  is  doing  to-day,"  replied  Rodney  earnestly. 
"You  never  expected  to  hear  me  utter  such 
sentiments,  did  you  ?  Well,  I  am  honest.  I 
want  peace,  and  so  does  everybody  except 
Jeff  Davis  and  a  few  others  high  in  authority. 
I'll  bring  Jack  here  if  I  can,  and  then  we'll 
become  traders,  all  of  us.  We  want  to  save 
what   we  can  from  the  wreck.'^ 

By  the  time  breakfast  was  served  and  eaten, 
and  the  conscripts  had  exchanged  their  rags  for 
whole  suits  of  clothing,  Mr,  Gray  and  Ned 
Griffin  came  to  swell  their  number,  and  to  hear 
Marcy  tell  how  he  and  his  comrade  managed 
to  escape  from  Millen  and  to  elude  their  pur- 
suers afterward.  Marcy  protested  that  he 
wasn't  going  to  lie  abed  when  there  was  no 
need  of  it,  so  he  was  propped  up  with  pillows 
in  the  biggest  rocking-chair  the  house  afforded, 
and  pulled  out  to  the  porch,  where  the  family 
assembled  to  listen  to  his  story,  which  ran 
about  as  follows  : 

When  we  took  leave  of  Marcy  Gray  to  re- 
sume the  history  of  his  cousin  Rodney's  ad- 
ventures and  exploits,  he  was  a  refugee  from 


MARK  Goodwin's  plan.  255 

home  and  living  in  tlie  Avoods  in  company  with 
a  small  party  of  men  and  boys  who  had  fled 
there  to  avoid  the  enrolling  officers,  as  well  as 
to  escape  persecution  at  the  hands  of  their 
rebel  neighbors.  By  a  bold  piece  of  strategy 
Marcy  had  relieved  his  mother  of  the  presence 
of  her  overseer,  Hanson  by  name,  who  had 
managed  to  keep  her  in  constant  trouble  and 
anxiety  ever  since  the  first  gun  was  fired  from 
Sumter.  Hanson  made  it  his  business  to  keep 
informed  on  all  matters  that  related  to  the  pri- 
vate life  of  the  occupants  of  the  great  house  ; 
in  fact  it  was  suspected  that  Beardsley,  Shelby, 
and  some  other  wealthy  rebels  paid  him  to  do 
it.  It  was  rumored  that  Mrs.  Gray  had  a 
large  sum  of  money  hidden  somewhere  about 
her  premises,  and  if  that  was  a  fact,  these 
enemies,  who  were  all  the  while  working 
against  her  in  secret,  desired  above  all  things 
to  know  it.  They  wanted  the  money  them- 
selves if  it  could  be  found,  and  even  went  so 
far  as  to  bring  four  ruffians  from  a  distant 
point  to  break  into  the  house  at  night  and 
steal  it.  If  they  failed  to  line  their  own 
pockets,  it  was  their  intention  to  induce  the 


256  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

Richmond  authorities  to  interest  themselves 
in  the  matter.  A  law  enacted  by  the  Con- 
federate Congress  at  the  breaking  out  of  the 
war  provided  that  all  debts  owing  to  Northern 
men  should  be  repudiated,  and  the  amount 
of  those  debts  turned  into  the  Confederate 
treasury.  Marcy  often  declared  that  liis 
mother  did  not  owe  anybody  a  red  cent  ;  but 
it  would  have  been  easy  for  such  men  as 
Beardsley  and  Shelby  to  swear  that  she  did, 
and  that,  instead  of  complying  with  the  law, 
she  was  hoarding  the  money  for  her  own  use.' 
If  this  could  be  i)roved  against  her,  Mrs.  Gray 
would  have  to  surrender  her  gold  or  go  to  jail ; 
but  somehow  Marcy  was  always  in  the  way 
whenever  her  secret  enemies  tried  to  collect 
evidence  against  her.  Being  always  on  his 
guard  he  never  could  be  made  to  acknowledge 
that  there  was  a  dollar  in  or  around  the  great 
house,  and  Beardsley  undertook  to  remove 
him  so  that  he  and  his  fellow-conspirators 
could  have  a  clear  field  for  their  operations  ; 
and  he  did  it  by  taking  Marcy  to  sea  with 
him  as  pilot  on  liis  privateer  and  blockade 
runner. 


MARK  Goodwin's  plan.  257 

But  for  a  long  time  nothing  worked  to 
Beardsley's  satisfaction.  His  fine  dwelling 
was  burned  while  he  was  at  sea,  and  the 
Federal  cruisers  drove  his  blockade  runner 
into  port  and  kept  her  there  until  Marcy  set 
fire  to  her  as  she  lay  at  her  moorings.  This  he 
did  on  the  night  he  left  home  to  join  the 
refugees  in  the  swamp.  He  had  a  narrow 
escape  that  night,  and  would  certainly  have 
been  packed  off  to  Williamston  jail  before 
morning  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  black  boy 
Julius,  Avho  loyally  risked  his  own  life  to  give 
Marcy  warning.  Beardsley  and  Shelby  were 
finally  "gobbled  up"  by  Union  cavalry  and 
taken  to  Plymouth,  which  had  been  captured 
by  some  of  Goldsborongh's  gunboats  and 
garrisoned  by  the  army;  but,  unfortunately 
for  Marcy,  they  did  not  remain  prisoners  for 
any  length  of  time.  If  Beardsley  had  any 
luck  at  all  it  showed  itself  in  the  easy  way  he 
had  of  slipping  through  the  hands  of  the 
Yankees.  He  was  captured  by  Captain  Ben- 
ton, who  commanded  the  vessel  on  which 
Marcy  did  duty  as  pilot  during  the  battles  of 
Roanoke   Island,  and  in  the  end  Avas   turned 

17 


258  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

over  to  General  Burnside,  who  made  the  mis- 
take of  parolling  him  with  the  ciiptiired  garri- 
son. That  was  the  plea  that  Beardsley  set  up 
when  he  and  his  comi)anions,  of  whom  there 
were  about  a  dozen,  were  taken  into  the  pres- 
ence of  the  Federal  commander  at  Plymouth. 

"I've  been  parolled,"  said  he,  "me  and  all 
the  fellers  you  see  with  me.  We  i)romised, 
honor  bright,  that  we  wouldn' t  never  take  np 
arms  agin  the  United  States,  and  we've  kept 
that  promise.  So  what  makes  you  snatch  us 
away  from  our  peaceful  homes  and  firesides, 
and  bring  us  here  to  shut  us  up,  when  we  aint 
never  done  the  least  thing  ?  " 

"  But  all  the  same  you  belong  to  the  Home 
Guards  who  were  organized  for  the  purpose  of 
persecuting  Union  people,"  said  the  colonel. 

"  IS'ever  heered  of  no  Home  Guards,"  replied 
Beardsley,  looking  astonished.  "There  aint 
no  such  things  in  our  country,  is  there,  boys  ?  " 

Of  course  Beardsley' s  companions  bore  will- 
ing testimony  to  the  truth  of  the  statement, 
and  when  he  and  Shelby  boldly  declared  that 
they  would  prove  their  sincerity  by  taking  the 
oath  then  and  there,  if  the  colonel  would  ad- 


MAKK  Goodwin's  plan.  259 

minister  it  to  them,  it  settled  the  matter  so  far 
as  they  were  concerned.  Their  companions 
were  willing  to  follow  their  example  rather 
than  suffer  themselves  to  be  sent  to  a  Northern 
prison,  and  the  result  was  that  in  less  than 
forty-eight  hours  after  Marcy  Gray  received 
the  gratifying  intelligence  that  he  had  seen 
the  last  of  Beardsley  and  Shelby,  for  a  while 
at  least,  they  were  at  home  again  and  eager  to 
take  vengeance  on  the  boy  whom  they  blamed 
more  than  anyone  else  for  their  short  cap- 
tivity. 

"How  did  the  Yankees  get  onto  our  trail  so 
easy,  and  know  all  about  that  Home  Guard 
business,  if  Marcy  Gray  didn't  tell  'em  ?"  said 
Beardsley,  when  he  and  his  friends  found  them- 
selves safe  outside  the  trenches  at  Plymouth 
and  well  on  their  way  homeward.  "When 
Marcy  made  a  pris'ner  of  his  mother's  over- 
seer and  took  him  among  the  Yankees  he  give 
'em  our  names,  told  'em  where  we  lived  and 
all  about  it;  and  I  say  he  shan't  stay  in  the 
settlement  no  longer,  I'll  land  him  in  Wil- 
liamston  jail  before  I  am  two  daj^s  older  ;  and 
when  he  gets  there   he  won't  come  back  in 


260  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

a  hnriy.  I'll  see  if  I  can't  have  him  sent  to 
some  regiment  down  on  the  Gulf  coast ;  then, 
if  he  runs  away,  as  he  is  likely  to  do  the  first 
chance  he  sees,  he  can't  get  home." 

"Be  you  goin'  to  keep  that  oath,  cap'n?" 
inquired  one  of  Beardsley's  companions. 

"  Listen  at  the  fule  !  Course  I'm  going  to 
keep  it.  I  didn'  t  promise  nothin'  but  that  I 
wouldn't  never  bear  arms  agin  the  Yankee 
government,  nor  lend  aid  and  comfort  to  its 
enemies,  without  any  mental  observation,  did 
I?    What  do  you  reckon  that  means,  Shelby?" 

"Mental  reservation,"  corrected  Colonel 
Shelby,  who  did  not  like  to  be  addressed  with 
so  much  familiarity.  "It  means  that  you  did 
not  swear  to  one  thing  while  you  were  think- 
ing about  another." 

"Then  I  took  the  oath  honest,  'cause  I 
wasn't  thinkin'  about  Marcy  Gray  at  all  while 
the  colonel  was  readin'  it  to  me  ;  but  I  am 
thinkin'  of  him  now.  I  didn't  promise  that  I 
wouldn't  square  yards  with  him  for  settin'  the 
Yanks  onto  me,  and  I'll  perceed  to  do  it  before 
I  sleep  sound." 

Beardsley  was  as  good  as  his  word,  or  tried 


MARK  Goodwin's  plan.  261 

to  be ;  but  it  took  him  longer  tlian  two  days 
to  land  Marcy  Gray  in  Williaiiiston  jail.  He 
laid  a  good  many  plans  to  capture  liim,  but 
somehow  they  were  put  into  operation  just  too 
late  to  be  successful.  And  what  exasperated 
Beardsley  and  Shelby  almost  beyond  endur- 
ance, and  drove  Tom  Allison  and  Mark  Good- 
win almost  frantic,  was  the  fact  that  Marcy 
did  not  keep  himself  in  hiding  as  closely  as  he 
used  to  do.  He  rode  to  Nashville  whenever 
he  felt  like  it,  and  went  in  and  out  of  the  post- 
office  as  boldly  as  he  ever  did  ;  but  he  was 
always  accom^^anied  by  Ben  Hawkins  and 
three  or  four  other  parolled  rebels,  and  no  one 
dared  lay  a  hand  on  him.  Ben  Hawkins,  you 
will  remember,  was  the  man  who  created  some- 
thing of  a  sensation  by  making  a  defiant 
speech  in  the  post-office  shortly  after  he  had 
been  released  on  parole  by  General  Burnside. 
He  declared  that  he  had  had  all  the  fighting 
he  wanted  and  did  not  intend  to  go  back  to 
the  army  ;  and  when  that  blatant  young  rebel 
Tom  Allison,  who  had  never  shouldered  a 
musket  and  did  not  mean  to,  so  far  forgot  his 
prudence   as   to   call  Hawkins  a   coward,  the 


262  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

latter  flew  into  a  rage  and  threatened  to 
"  twist "  Tom's   neck   for  liim. 

"Did  Hawkins  and  liis  jjarolled  comrades 
know  that  you  served  on  a  Union  gunboat 
during  the  fight  at  Roanoke  Island?"  asked 
Rodney,  when  his  cousin  reached  this  point  in 
his  narrative. 

"Of  course  tliey  knew  it ;  and  they  knew, 
too,  that  Jack  was  serving  on  one  of  the 
blocl?:ading  fleet,  but  it  didn't  seem  to  make 
the  least  difference  in  their  friendship  for  me. 
Hawkins  was  the  man  wlio  lielped  me  get  that 
treacherous  overseer  out  of  mother's  way,  and 
he  and  the  other  parolled  prisoners  who  found 
a  home  in  our  refugee  camp  liad  relatives 
in  the  settlement ;  and  those  relatives  found 
means  to  warn  us  Avhenever  a  cavalry  raid  was 
expected  out  from  Williamston." 

"  You  must  have  led  an  exciting  life," 
observed   Rodney. 

Marcy  replied  that  he  found  some  excite- 
ment in  dodging  the  rebel  cavalry  and  in 
listening  to  the  sounds  of  the  skirmishes  that 
frequently  took  place  between  them  and  the 
Union  troopers  that  scouted  through  the  coun- 


MAiiK  Goodwin's  plan.  263 

try  from  Plymouth  ;  but  there  wasn't  a  bit  to 
be  seen  during  the  weary  days  he  passed  on 
the  island,  afraid  to  show  his  head  above  the 
brush  wind-break  lest  some  lurking  Confeder- 
ate should  send  a  bullet  into  it.  'Nor  was 
there  any  pleasure  in  the  lonely  night  trips  he 
made  to  and  from  his  mother's  house  when- 
ever it  came  his  turn  to  forage  for  his  com- 
j)anions.  Keeping  the  camp  supplied  with 
provisions  was  a  dangerous  duty,  and  he  had 
to  do  his  share  of  it.  It  was  always  per- 
formed under  cover  of  the  darkness,  for  if  any 
of  their  number  had  been  seen  carrying  sup- 
plies away  from  a  house  during  the  daytime, 
it  would  have  been  reported  to  the  first  squad 
of  rebel  cavalry  that  rode  through  the  settle- 
ment, and  that  house  would  have  been  burned 
to  the  ground.  To  make  matters  worse  the 
refugees  learned,  to  their  great  consternation 
and  anger,  that  there  was  an  enemy  among 
them  ;  that  one  who  ate  salt  with  them  every 
day  and  slept  under  the  same  trees  at  night, 
who  took  part  in  their  councils,  heard  all  the 
reports,  good  and  bad,  that  were  brought  in, 
and  knew  the  camj^  routine  so  well  that  he 


264  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

could  tell  beforehand  what  particular  refugee 
would  go  foraging  on  a  certain  niglit,  and 
name  the  houses  he  would  visit  during  his 
absence — someone  who  knew  all  these  things 
was  holding  regular  communication  with  ene- 
mies in  the  settlement,  who  made  such  good 
use  of  the  information  given  them  by  this 
treacherous  refugee  that  they  brought  untold 
suffering  to  Marcy  Gray  and  his  mother,  and 
severe  and  well-merited  punishment  upon 
themselves.  In  order  that  you  may  under- 
stand how  it  was  brought  about  we  must 
describe  some  things  that  Marcy  did  not 
include  in  his  narrative,  for  the  very  good 
reason   that   he  knew  nothing  of   them. 

We  have  said  that  Tom  Allison  and  his 
friend  and  crony  Mark  Goodwin  were  angry 
when  they  saw  Marcy  Gray  and  his  body- 
guard riding  about  the  country,  holding  their 
heads  high  as  though  they  had  never  done 
anything  to  be  ashamed  of.  Tom  and  Mark 
were  together  all  the  time,  and  their  principal 
business  in  life  was  to  bring  trouble  to  some 
good  Union  family  as  often  as  they  saw  oppor- 
tunity to  do  so  without  danger  to  themselves. 


MARK  Goodwin's  plan.  265 

The  burning  of  Beardsley's  fine  scliooner  liad 
opened  their  eyes  to  the  fact  that  Marcy  and 
his  fellow-refugees  could  not  be  trifled  with, 
that  there  was  a  limit  to  their  patience,  and 
that  it  was  the  height  of  folly  to  crowd  them 
too  far. 

"There's  somebody  in  this  neighborhood 
who  ought  to  be  driven  out  of  it,"  declared 
Mark  Goodwin,  while  he  and  Tom  Allison 
were  riding  toward  Nashville  one  morning, 
trying  to  make  up  their  minds  how  and  where 
to  pass  the  long  day  before  them.  "  Don't 
it  beat  you  how  Marcy  and  his  body-guard 
dodge  in  and  out  of  the  woods  when  there  are 
no  Confederate  soldiers  around,  and  how  close 
they  keep  themselves  at  all  other  times  ? " 

"  Marcy  knows  what's  going  on  in  the  settle- 
ment as  well  as  he  did  when  he  lived  here," 
answered  Tom.  "He's  got  friends,  and  plenty 
of  them." 

"Everything  goes  to  prove  it,"  said  Mark, 
"and  those  friends  ought  to  be  driven  away 
from  here." 

"That's  what  I  say;  but  who  are  they? 
Name  a  few  of  them." 


266  SAILOE  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

"  We'll  never  be  able  to  call  any  of  them  by- 
name until  we  put  a  spy  in  the  camp  of  those 
refugees  to  keep  us  posted  on  all." 

"Mark,"  exclaimed  Tom,  riding  closer  to 
his  companion  and  laying  his  riding  whip 
lightly  on  his  shoulder,  "  you've  hit  it,  and  I 
wonder  we  did  not  think  of  it  before.  Every 
general  sends  out  spies  to  bring  him  informa- 
tion which  lie  could  not  get  in  any  other  way, 
and  although  we  are  not  generals  we  are  good 
and  loyal  Confederates,  and  what's  the  reason 
we  can't  do  the  same?  Have  you  thought  of 
anybody  ? " 

"  There's  Kelsey,  for  one." 

"  Great  Scott,  man  !  He  won't  do.  Beards- 
ley,  Shelby,  and  a  few  others  offered  Kelsey 
money  to  find  out  whether  Marcy  and  his 
mother  were  Union  or  Confederate,  and  tried 
to  have  him  employed  on  that  plantation  as 
overseer  after  Hanson  was  spirited  away,  so 
that  he  could  find  out  if  there  was  any 
money  in  the  house  ;  and  Marcy  knows  all 
about  it." 

"There's  mighty  little  goes  on  that  he 
doesn't  know  about,  and  I  can't  for  the  life  of 


MARK  Goodwin's  plan.  267 

me  see  how  lie  keeps  so  well  posted,"  observed 
Mark. 

"  Then  Beardsley  and  Shelby  tried  to  induce 
Kelsey  to  burn  Mrs.  Gray's  house,  and  Marcy 
knows  about  that,  too,"  continued  Tom. 
"  Wouldn't  he  be  a  plum  dunce  to  let  such  a 
man  as  that  come  into  camp  to  spy  on  him  ? 
Besides,  Kelsey  is  too  big  a  coward  to  under- 
take the  job." 

"  And  he  couldn't  make  the  refugees  believe 
that  he  had  turned  his  coat  and  become  Union 
all  on  a  sudden,"  assented  Mark.  "No,  Kel- 
sey won't  do.  We  ought  to  make  a  bargain 
with  somebody  who  is  already  in  the  camp  and 
who  is  supposed  to  be  Marcy' s  friend.  How 
does  Biiffum  strike  you  ?  " 

"  Have  you  any  reason  to  believe  that  he  is 
not  Marcy' s  friend  ?  " 

"No  ;  but  I  believe  that  a  man  who  is  on 
the  make  as  he  is  would  do  almost  anything 
for  gain.  He's  no  more  Union  than  I  am.  He 
kept  out  of  the  army  because  he  was  afraid  he 
would  be  killed  if  he  went  in  ;  and  besides, 
he  knew  that  Beardsley's  promise,  to  look  out 
for  the  wants  of  his  family  while  he  was  gone, 


268  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

wasn't  good  for  anything.  By  taking  np  Avith 
the  refugees  he  made  sure  of  getting  enough 
to  eat,  but,"  added  Mark,  sinking  his  voice  to 
a  whisper,  "  he  didn' t  make  sure  of  anything 
else — any  money,  I  mean." 

"  Whew  !  "  whistled  Tom.  "  Perhaps  there 
is  something  in  it.  Let's  ride  over  and  see 
what  Beardsley  thinks  about  it.  You  are  not 
afraid  to  trust  him." 

No,  Mark  wasn't  afraid  to  take  Captain 
Beardsley  or  any  other  good  Confederate  into 
his  confidence,  and  showed  it  by  turning  his 
horse  around  and  i)utting  him  into  a  lope. 
They  talked  earnestly  as  they  rode,  and  the 
conclusion  they  came  to  was  that  Mark  had 
hit  upon  a  fine  plan  for  punishing  a  boy  who 
had  never  done  them  the  least  harm,  and  that 
the  lazy,  worthless  Buffum  was  just  the  man 
to  help  them  carry  it  out  successfully.  Cap- 
tain Beardsley  thought  so  too,  after  the  scheme 
had  been  unfolded  to  him.  They  found  him 
with  his  coat  off  and  a  hoe  in  his  hands  work- 
ing with  his  negroes  ;  but  he  was  quite  ready 
to  come  to  the  fence  when  they  intimated  that 
they  had  something  to  say  to  him  in  private. 


MARK  Goodwin's  plan.  269 

Beardsley's  field-hands  had  disappeared  rap- 
idly since  the  flag  which  they  knew  to  be  the 
emblem  of  their  freedom  had  been  given  to  the 
breeze  at  Plymouth,  and  those  who  remained 
were  the  aged  and  crippled,  who  were  wise 
enough  to  know  that  they  could  not  earn  their 
living  among  strangers,  and  the  vicious  and 
shiftless  (and  Beardsley  owned  more  of  this 
sort  of  help  than  any  other  planter  in  the 
State),  who  were  afraid  that  the  Yankees 
would  work  them  too  hard.  The  "invaders" 
believed  that  those  who  wouldn't  work  couldn't 
eat,  and  lived  up  to  their  principles  by  put- 
ting some  implement  of  labor  into  the  hands 
of  the  contrabands  as  fast  as  they  came  inside 
the  lines. 

.  "They're  a  sorry  lookin'  lot,"  said  Captain 
Beardsley,  as  he  came  up  to  the  fence,  rested 
his  elbow  on  the  top  rail,  and  glanced  back  at 
his  negroes,  "and  I  am  gettin'  tol'able  tired 
of  the  way  things  is  goin',  now  I  tell  you. 
Sixty  thousand  dollars'  wutli  of  niggers  has 
slipped  through  my  fingers  sence  this  war  was 
brung  on  us,  dog-gone  the  luck,  and  that's 
what  I  get  for  bein'  a  Confedrit.     If  I'd  been 


270  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

Union  like  them  Grays,  I'd  'a'  had  most  of  my 
hands  with  me  yet." 

"I  have  a  plan  forgetting  even  with  those 
Grays,  if  you've  got  time  to  listen  to  it,"  said 
Mark. 

"I've  got  time  to  listen  to  anybody  who  will 
show  me  how  to  square  yards  Avith  the  feller 
who  sneaked  up  like  a  thief  in  the  night  and 
set  fire  to  my  schooner,"  replied  Beardsley 
fierce!  3^ 

"But  when  Marcy  did  that  wasn't  you 
trying  to  make  a  prisoner  of  him?"  said 
Tom. 

"Course  I  was.  And  I  had  a  right  to, 
'cause  aint  he  Union?  If  he  aint,  why  didn't 
he  run  Captain  Benton's  ship  aground  when 
the  fight  Avas  goin'  on  down  there  to  the  Island  ? 
He  had  chances  enough." 

"  The  Yankees  would  have  hung  him  if  he'd 
done  that." 

"S'xDos'n  they  did;  aint  better  men  than 
Marcy  Gray  been  hung  durin'  this  war,  I'd  like 
to  know  ?  I  wish  one  of  our  big  shells  had  hit 
that  gunboat  'twixt  wind  and  water  and  sent 
her  to  the  bottom  with  every  soul  on  board ; 


MARK  Goodwin's  plan.  271 

but  it  didn't  hapx)en  so,  and  Marcy  was  let 
come  home  to  burn  the  only  thing  I  had  left  in 
this  wide  world  to  make  my  bread  and  butter 
with.  Why,  boys,  everything  I've  got  that 
schooner  made  for  me  on  the  high  seas — nig- 
gers, plantation,  and  all ;  and  now  she  has 
been  tooken  from  me,  dog-gone  the  luck. 
How  is  it  you're  thinkin'  of  gettin'  even 
with  him?" 

Mark  Goodwin  had  not  proceeded  very  far 
with  his  explanation  before  he  became  satis- 
fied that  he  had  hit  upon  something  which  met 
the  captain's  hearty  approval,  for  the  latter 
rested  his  bearded  chin  on  his  breast,  wagged 
his  head  from  side  to  side  as  he  always  did 
when  he  was  very  much  i)leased  and  Avanted 
to  laugh,  and  pounded  the  top  rail  with  his 
clenched  hand.  He  let  Mark  explain  without 
interruption,  and  when  the  boy  ceased  speak- 
ing he  backed  away  from  the  fence,  rested  his 
hands  on  his  knees,  and  gave  vent  to  a  single 
shout  of  merriment. 

"  It  '11  work  ;  I  just  know  it  '11  work,"  said 
he,  as  soon  as  he  could  speak,  "and  you 
couldn't  have  i)icked  out  a  better  man  for  the 


272  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

job  than  that  sneak  Buff  am.  He's  beholden 
to  me  and  wants  money.  Go  down  and  tell 
him   I  want  to   see   him   directly." 

Then  Beardsley  rested  his  folded  arms  on 
the  fence  and  fell  to  shaking  his  head  again. 


CHAPTER  XL 

BEN   MAKES   A   FAILURE. 

"■T3UT,  captain,"  said  Tom  Allison,  who 
J3  was  delighted  by  this  prompt  and  em- 
phatic indorsement  of  his  friend's  plan,  "are 
you  sure  the  thing  can  be  done  without  bring- 
ing suspicion  upon  any  of  us  ?  You  have  a  lot 
of  property  that  will  burn,  and  so  has  Mark's 
father's  and  mine.  Remember  that.  Are  you 
positive  that  Buffum  can  be  trusted,  and  has 
he  courage  enough  to  take  him  through  ?  " 

"  Nobody  aint  a-going  to  get  into  no  trouble 
if  you  uns  do  like  I  tell  you  and  go  and  send 
Buffum  up  here  to  me,"  replied  Beardsley. 
"Am  I  likely  to  disremember  that  I've  got  a 
lot  of  things  left  that  will  burn  as  easy  as  my 
dwellin'  house  did  ?  and  do  you  reckon  I'd 
take  a  hand  in  the  business  if  I  wasn't  sure  it 
would  work  ?  Your  Uncle  Lon  has  got  a  little 
sense  left  yet.  And  I'll  pertect  you  uns  too, 
if  you  will  keep  still  tongues  into  your  heads 
18  373 


274  SAILOK  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

and  let  me  do  all  the  talkin'.  You'll  find 
Buff  urn  down  to  his  house  if  you  go  right 
now.  I  seen  him  pikin'  that-a-way  acrosst  the 
fields  when  I  rode  up  from  Nashville  not 
more'n  two  hours  ago.  Tell  him  I  want  to  see 
him  directly,  and  then  watch  out.  Somethin's 
goin'  to  happen  this  very  night." 

"  Who  do  you  think  will  be  captured  first  ?  " 
asked  Mark. 

"  Marcy  Gray,  of  course,"  replied  Tom. 
"He  must  be  first,  or  at  least  one  of  the  first, 
for  by  the  time  two  or  three  foragers  have  been 
captured  on  two  or  three  different  nights,  the 
rest  of  the  refugees  will  become  suspicious  and 
change  their  way  of  sending  out  foragers." 

"S'pos'n  they  do,"  exclaimed  Beardsley. 
"  Won't  Buffum  be  right  there  in  their  camp, 
to  take  notus  of  every  change  that  is  made, 
and  as  often  as  he  comes  home  can't  he  slip  up 
here  and  post  me  ?  Now,  you  hurry  up  and 
tell  Buffum  I  want  to  see  him  directly." 

As  Beardsley  emphasized  his  words  by  turn- 
ing away  from  the  fence  and  hastening  toward 
the  place  wliere  he  had  dropped  his  hoe,  the 
boys  did  not  linger  to  ask  any  more  questions, 


BEN   MAKES    A   FAILURE.  275 

but  jumped  their  horses  over  the  ditch  and 
started  in   a  lope  for  Buff  urn's   cabin. 

"I  almost  wish  we  had  gone  straight  to 
Buff  urn's  in  the  first  place  and  kept  away 
from  Beardsley,"  said  Mark  as  they  galloped 
along.  "It  is  bound  to  end  in  the  breaking 
up  of  that  band  of  refugees,  and  when  it  is 
done,  Beardsley  will  claim  all  the  honor,  and 
perhaps  declare  that  the  plan  originated  in  his 
own  head." 

"And  he'll  have  to  stand  the  brunt  of  it 
if  things  don't  work  as  we  hope  they  will," 
added  Tom.  "  If  he  lisps  it  in  his  daughter's 
presence  it  will  get  all  over  the  State  in 
twenty-four  hours,  and  then  there'll  be  some 
hot  work   around   here." 

Half  an  hour's  riding  brought  the  boys  to 
Buff  urn's  cabin,  which  stood  in  the  middle  of 
a  ten-acre  field  that  had  been  planted  to  corn, 
and  so  rapidly  did  they  approach  it  that  they 
caught  the  owner  in  the  act  of  dodging  out  of 
the  door  with  a  heavy  shot-gun  in  his  hands. 
Believing  that  he  had  been  fairly  surprised 
and  was  about  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  Con- 
federate troopers,  the  man's  cowardly  nature 


276  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

showed  itself.  He  leaned  his  gun  against  the 
cabin  and  raised  both  hands  above  his  head  in 
token  of  surrender  ;  but  when  he  had  taken  a 
second  look  and  discovered  that  he  had  been 
frightened  without  good  reason,  he  snatched 
up  his  gun  again  and  aimed  it  at  Tom  Alli- 
son's head, 

"Halt!"  he  shouted.  "I'll  die  before  I 
will  be  tooken." 

"Why  didn't  you  talk  that  way  before  you 
saw  who  we  were?"  demanded  Tom.  "You 
can't  get  up  a  reputation  for  courage  hj  any 
such  actions.  Captain  Beardsley  wants  to 
see  you  at  his  house." 

"What  do  you  reckon  he  wants  of  me?" 
inquired  the  man,  letting  down  the  hammers 
of  his  gun  and  seating  himself  on  the  door- 
step. "Aint  nary  soldier  behind  you,  is 
they?" 

"  We  haven't  seen  a  soldier  for  a  week,"  re- 
plied Tom.  "We  haven't  come  here  to  get 
you  into   trouble " 

"  But  to  put  you  in  the  way  of  making  soma 
money,"  chimed  in  Mark. 

"Well,  you  couldn't  have  come  to  a  man 


BEN   MAKES   A   FAILURE.  277 

wlio  needs  money  wuss  tlian  I  do,"  said 
Buffum,  becoming  interested.  "  What  do  you 
want  me  to  do  ?" 

"  We  want  you  to  break  up  that  camp  of 
refugees   down   there   in   the   swamp." 

"Then  you've  come  to  the  wrong  pusson," 
said  Buffum,  shaking  his  head  in  a  very  de- 
cided way.  "  Don't  you  know  that  I'm  livin' 
in  that  camp,  and  that  I  don't  never  come 
out  'ceptin'  when  I  know  there  aint  no  rebel 
soldiers   scoutin'   around?" 

•'How  does  it  happen  that  you  know  when 
there  are  no  rebel  scouts  in  the  settlement?" 
inquired  Mark.  "  Somebody  must  keep  you 
,  posted." 

"I've  got  friends,  and  good  ones,  too." 

"  So  I  supposed,"  continued  Mark.  "And 
you  know  on  what  nights  Marcy  Gray  goes  to 
his  mother's  house  after  grub,  don't  you?  I 
thought  so.  Well,  if  you  will  let  us  know 
when  he  expects  to  go  there  again  it  will  be 
money  in   your  pocket." 

"How  much  money?"  asked  Buffum  ;  and 
his  tone  and  manner  encouraged  the  boys  to 
believe  that,  if  sufficient  inducement  were  held 


278  SAILOR   JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

out,  lie  might  be  depended  on  to  supply  the 
desired  infornuition.  He  picked  up  a  twig 
that  lay  near  him,  and  broke  it  in  pieces  with 
fingers  that  trembled  visibly. 

"You  can  set  your  own  price,''  replied 
Mark.  ' '  And  bear  in  mind  that  you  will  not 
run  the  slightest  risk.  Who  is  going  to  sus- 
pect you  if  you  take  pains  to  remain  in  camp 
on  the  night  Marcy  is  captured?  Now  will 
you  go  down  and  talk  to  Beardsley  about 
it?" 

"You're  sure  you  didn't  see  nary  soldier 
while  you  was  comin'  up  here?"  said  the 
man  doubtfully. 

"We  didn't,  and  neither  did  we  hear  of 
any.  You  don't  want  to  follow  the  road,  for 
you  will  save  time  and  distance  by  going 
through  the  woods.  You  will  find  Beardsley 
in  the  field  north  of  where  his  house  used  to 
stand.     You'll  go,  won't  you?" 

Buffum  said  he  would  think  about  it,  and 
the  boys  rode  away,  satisfied  that  he  would 
start  as  soon  as  they  were  out  of  sight. 

"  So  far  so  good,  with  one  exception,"  said 
Tom,  as  they  rode  out  of  the  field  into  the 


BEN   MAKES   A   FAILUEE.  279 

road.  "We  talked  too  mncli,  and  Beardsley 
told  us  particularly   to   keep   still." 

"I  don't  care  if  he  did,"  answered  Mark 
spitefully.  "This  is  my  plan,  and  if  it  works 
I  want,  and  mean  to  have,  the  honor  of  it.  I 
hope  it  will  get  to  Marcy's  ears,  for  when  he  is 
in  the  army  I  want  him  to  know  that  I  put 
him  there." 

"He'll  know  it,"  said  Tom  with  a  laugh. 
"Buffum's  wife  was  in  the  cabin,  and  heard 
every  word   we   said." 

While  Tom  and  Mark  were  spending  their 
time  in  this  congenial  way,  Marcy  Grray  and 
his  fellow-refugees  were  finding  what  little 
enjoyment  they  could  in  acting  as  camp- 
keepers,  or  visiting  their  friends  and  relatives 
in  the  settlement.  Just  now  there  was  little 
scouting  done  by  either  side.  The  Confeder- 
ates at  Williamston  had  lost  about  as  many 
men  as  they  could  afford  to  lose  in  skirmishes 
with  the  Federals,  who  were  always  strong 
enough  to  drive  them  and  to  take  a  few 
prisoners  besides,  and  had  grown  weary  of 
searching  for  a  camp  of  refugees  which  they 
began  to  believe  was  a  myth. 


280  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

"It's  always  stillest  jest  before  a  storm," 
Ben  Hawkins  had  been  heard  to  say,  "and 
this  here  quiet  is  goin'  to  make  all  we  uns  so 
careless  that  the  first  thing  we  know  some  of 
us  will  turn  uj)  missin'." 

And  on  the  night  following  the  day  during 
which  Tom  Allison  and  Mark  Goodwin  paid 
their  visit  to  Buffum's  cabin,  Ben  came  very 
near  making  his  words  true  by  turning  up 
missing  himself.  The  camp  regulations  re- 
quired that  every  member  should  report  at 
sunset,  unless  he  had  received  permission  to 
remain  away  longer,  and  especially  were  the 
foragers  expected  to  be  on  hand  to  make  prep- 
arations to  go  out  again  as  soon  as  night  fell. 
Ben  Hawkins  was  one  of  three  who  went  out 
on  the  night  of  which  we  write,  and  he  came 
back  shortly  before  daylight  to  report  that  he 
had  barely  escaped  surprise  and  capture  in  his 
father's  house. 

"  But  I've  got  the  grub  all  the  same,"  said 
he,  placing  a  couple  of  well-filled  bags  upon 
the  ground  near  the  tree  under  which  he  slept  in 
good  weather.  "  I  was  bound  I  wouldn't  come 
without  it,  and  that's  what  made  me  so  late." 


BEN   MAKES   A   FAILURE.  281 

"Did  you  see  them?"  asked  the  refugees 
in  concert.  "  Were  they  soldiers  from 
Williamston  ? " 

"  Naw  !  "  replied  Hawkins  in  a  tone  of  dis- 
gust. "They  were  some  of  Shelby's  pesky 
Home  Guards.  Leastwise  the  two  I  saw  were 
Home  Guards,  but  I  wasn't  clost  enough  to 
recognize  their  faces.  Now  I  want  you  all  to 
listen  and  ask  questions  next  time  you  go  out, 
and  find,  if  you  can,  who  all  is  missin'  in  the 
settlement.  I  had  a  tol'able  fair  crack  at 
them  two,  and  I  don't  reckon  they'll  never 
pester  any   more   of  w^e    uns." 

The  man  Biiffura  Avas  there  and  listening  to 
every  word,  and  he  had  so  little  self-control 
that  it  was  a  wonder  he  did  not  betray  him- 
self. Probably  he  would  if  it  had  not  been 
that  all  the  refugees  showed  more  or  less 
agitation. 

"Didn't  I  say  that  we  uns  Avould  get  too 
careless  for  our  own  good?"  continued  Haw- 
kins. "I've  got  so  used  to  goin'  and  comin' 
without  bein'  pestered  that  I  didn't  pay  no 
attention  to  what  I  was  doin',  and  'lowed 
myself  to  be  fairly  ketched  in  the  house.     I'd 


282  SAILOR   JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

'a'  been  took,  easy  as  you  please,  if  I'd  'a'  bad 
soldiers  to  deal  with." 

"  Where  are  tlie  two  foragers  who  went  out 
with  you?"  inquired  Marcy. 

"Aint  they  got  back  yet?"  exclaimed 
Hawkins,  a  shade  of  anxiety  settling  on  his 
bronzed  features.  "I  aint  seed  'em  sence  I 
left  'em  up  there  at  the  turn  of  the  road,  like 
I  always  do  when  we  go  after  grub.  They 
went  their  ways  and  I  went  mine,  and  I  aint 
seed  'em  sence.  What  will  you  bet  that  they 
aint  tooken?" 

The  refugees  talked  the  matter  over  while 
they  were  eating  breakfast  and  anxiously 
awaiting  the  appearance  of  the  missing  for- 
agers, and  asked  one  another  if  Mr.  Hawkins 
would  be  likely  to  lose  any  buildings  because 
Ben  liad  been  detected  in  the  act  of  carrying 
two  bags  of  provisions  from  his  house.  Ben 
said  cheerfully  that  he  did  not  look  for  any- 
thing else,  and  that  he  expected  to  spend  a 
good  many  nights  in  setting  bonfires  in  differ- 
ent parts  of  the  settlement.  No  one  hinted 
that  this  sudden  activity  on  the  part  of  the 
Home  Guards  might  be  the  result  of  a  con- 


BEN   MAKES  A   FAILUEE.  283 

spiracy,  and,  so  far  as  lie  knew,  Marcy  Gray 
was  the  only  one  who  suspected  it.  The 
houses  toward  which  the  foragers  bent  their 
steps,  when  they  separated  at  the  turn,  stood 
at  least  three  miles  apart  and  in  different 
directions,  and  it  seemed  strange  to  Marcy 
that  those  particular  houses  should  have  been 
watched  on  that  particular  night.  He  thought 
the  matter  would  bear  investigation,  and  with 
tliis  thought  in  his  mind  he  set  out  imme- 
diately after  breakfast,  with  the  black  boy 
Julius  for  company,  to  see  if  any  of  the  Home 
Guards  had  paid  an  unwelcome  visit  to  his 
mother  since  he  took  leave  of  her  the  day 
before.  On  his  way  he  passed  through  the 
field  in  which  the  overseer  Hanson  had  been 
taken  into  custody  and  marched  off  to  Plym- 
outh, and  the  negroes  who  were  at  work 
there  at  once  gathered  around  to  tell  him  the 
news.  Early  as  it  was,  they  had  had  ample 
time  to  learn  all  about  it. 

"Did  the  Home  Guards  trouble  my 
mother?"  asked  Marcy  after  listening  to 
their  story. 

"No,  sah  ;  dey  didn't.     But  dey  gobble  up 


284  SAILOK  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

two  of  dem  refugees  so  quick  dey  couldn't 
figlit,  but  dey  don't  git  Moster  Hawkins  Ivase 
lie  too  miglity  handy  wid  his  gun." 

"Do  you  know  whether  or  not  he  shot  any 
of  them?" 

"We's  sorry  to  be  'bleeged  to  say  he 
didn't,"  was  the  reply.  "  You  want  to  watch 
out,  Marse  Malicy,  an'  don't  luf  nobody  round 
hyar  know  when  you  comin'  home  nex'  time." 

Marcy  had  already  decided  to  follow  this 
course,  but  he  did  not  say  anything  to  the 
talkative  darkies  about  it.  If  he  had  decided 
at  the  same  time  that  he  wouldn't  mention  it 
in  camp,  it  would  have  been  better  for  him. 

While  Marcy  was  visiting  his  mother  (and 
all  the  while  he  was  in  her  presence  there  w^ere 
four  trusty  negroes  outside,  watching  the 
house),  Tom  Allison  and  Mark  Goodwin  were 
trying  to  learn  what  had  become  of  the  two 
refugees  who  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the 
Home  Guards  ;  and  when  they  found  that 
both  Beardsley  and  Shelby  were  absent  from 
home  on  business,  they  thought  they  knew. 

"They  have  been  taken  to  jail,"  said  Mark, 
who  was  delighted  over  the  success  of  his  plan. 


BEN   MAKES   A   FAILURE.  285 

but  angry  at  Beardsley  because  the  latter  did 
not  wait  a  few  nights  and  make  sure  of  Marcy 
Gray,  instead  of  capturing  two  men  who  were 
of  no  consequence  one  way  or  the  other. 
"But  between  you  and  me,  I  don't  envy  the 
Home  Guards  the  task  they  liave  set  for  them- 
selves. If  all  the  refugees  are  like  Hawkins 
somebody  is  going  to  get  hurt." 

While  Mark  talked  in  this  way  he  and  Tom 
were  riding  toward  Beardsley' s  plantation, 
and  now  they  turned  through  his  gate,  passed 
the  ruins  of  his  dwelling,  and  finally  drew  rein 
in  front  of  the  house  in  which  the  overseer 
lived  when  Beardsley  thought  he  could  afford 
to  hire  one,  but  which  was  now  occupied  by 
his  own  family.  His  daughter  came  to  the 
door,  and  the  boys  saw  at  once  that  she  knew 
all  about  it. 

"  Paw  and  Shelby  has  took  them  two  fellers 
to  Williamston,"  she  said  in  her  ordinary  tone 
of  voice,  as  though  there  was  nothing  secret  in 
it.  "And  they're  goin'  to  bring  some  of  our 
soldiers  back  with  'em,  kase  he  'lows,  paw 
does,  that  it  wouldn't  be  safe  for  him  and 
Shelby  to  fool  with   Mahcy  Gray.     He's  got 


286  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

too  many  friends,  and  paw  'lows  that  he  aint 
got  no  more  houses  to  lose." 

Tom  and  Mark  turned  away  without  making 
any  reply  or  asking  any  questions.  They  did 
not  want  to  liear  any  more.  Beardsley  had 
cautioned  them  not  to  say  a  word  about  it,  and 
here  he  had  gone  and  told  it  to  his  daughter, 
which  was  the  same  as  though  he  had  written 
out  a  full  description  of  Mark's  plan  and  put 
it  on  the  bulletin-board  in  the  post-office. 
When  Tom  looked  into  his  companion's  face 
he  was  surprised  to  see  liow  white  it  was. 

"Mark,"  said  he  in  a  low  whisper,  "we're 
in  the  worst  scrape  of  our  lives,  and  if  we 
come  safely  out  of  it  I'll  promise  that  I  will 
never  again  try  to  interfere  with  Marcy  Gray. 
He  can  go  into  the  army  or  stay  out  of  it,  just 
as  he  pleases.  If  he  ever  finds  out  what  we 
have  been  up  to  what  will  become  of  us  ?" 

"If  he  hasn't  found  it  out  already  it  is  his 
own  fault,"  replied  Mark,  who  had  never 
before  been  so  badly  frightened.  "Every- 
body in  the  settlement  knows  it,  and  some 
enemy  of  ours  will  be  sure  to  tell  him,  Tom, 
I  wish  we  had  let  him  alone." 


BEN   MAKES   A   FAILUKE.  287 

But  Mark's  repentance  came  too  late.  The 
miscliief  had  been  done,  and  Marcy  Gray  was 
industriously  collecting  evidence  against  him 
and  his  companion  in  guilt.  He  had  already 
heard  enough  to  satisfy  him  on  three  points  : 
that  the  plan  for  capturing  the  refugees  in 
detail  originated  with  Tom  and  Mark,  that 
Captain  Beardsley  had  undertaken  to  do  the 
work,  and  that  at  least  one  of  the  refugees  was 
a  traitor.  But  unfortunately  he  shot  wide  of 
the  mark  when  he  began  casting  about  for 
someone  on  w^hom  to  lay  the  blame.  He  sus- 
pected one  of  Ben  Hawkins'  comrades  who 
had  been  captured  and  parolled  at  Roanoke 
Island.  There  were  seven  of  them,  and  one  of 
their  number,  beyond  a  doubt,  had  furnished 
the  information  that  enabled  the  Home  Guards 
to  capture  the  two  men  who  had  been  taken  to 
Williamston.  He  never  once  suspected  -the 
man  Builum.  If  he  had,  he  would  have  dis- 
missed the  suspicion  with  a  laugh,  for  everyone 
knew  that  Buffum  was  too  big  a  coward  to 
take   the   slightest  risk. 

When  Marcy  took  leave  of  his  mother  he 
rode  straight  to  Beardsley' s,  and  was  not  very 


288  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

mucli  surprised  to  learn  that  the  captain  had 
left  home  early  that  morning  to  '"tend  to 
some  business  over  Williamston  way."  His 
ignorant  daughter  tried  to  be  very  secretive, 
and  succeeded  so  well  that  Marcy  would  have 
been  stupid  indeed  if  he  hadn't  been  able  to 
tell  what  business  it  was  that  took  her  father 
''over  Williamston  way."  Then  he  changed 
the  subject  and  surprised  her  into  giving  him 
some  other  information. 

"Hawkins  made  a  lively  fight  for  the  Home 
Guards  last  night,  did  he  not?"  said  Marcy. 
"  How  many  of  them  did  he  kill  ?  " 

"Nary  one.  Didn't  hit  nary  one,  nuther," 
answered  the  girl.  "  Paw  'lowed  that  if  Ben 
had  had  a  gun  he'd  'a'  hurt  somebody  ;  but  he 
popped  away  Avitli  a  little  dissolver,  and  you 
can't  hit  nothin'  with  a  dissolver.  Mind  you, 
I  don't  know  nothin'  about  it  only  jest  what 
the  niggers  told  me." 

"  Some  folks  might  believe  that  story,  but 
I  don't,"  said  Marcy  to  himself,  as  he  wheeled 
his  horse  and  rode  from  the  yard.  "  When  the 
darkies  get  hold  of  any  news  they  don't  go  to 
you  with  it." 


BEN  MAKES   A   FAILURE.  289 

From  Beardsley's  Marcy  went  to  Nasliville, 
stopping  as  often  as  lie  met  anyone  willing  to 
talk  to  him,  and  going  out  of  his  way  to  visit 
the  homes  of  the  two  refugees  who  had  been 
ca]3tured  the  night  before,  and  everywhere 
picking  up  little  scraps  of  evidence  against 
Tom,  Mark,  and  Beardsley  ;  but  everyone  was 
so  positive  that  there  could  not  be  a  traitor  in 
the  cam]3  of  the  refugees,  that  Marcy  himself 
began  to  have  doubts  on  that  point.  Ben 
Hawkins'  father  and  mother  took  him  into  the 
house  and  showed  him  the  chair  in  which  Ben 
was  sitting  when  four  masked  men  rushed  into 
the  room,  two  through  each  door,  and  tried  to 
capture  him. 

"But  my  Ben,  he  aint  a-skeered  of  no 
Home  Guards,"  said  Mr.  Hawkins  proudly. 
"  Before  you  could  say  '  Gen'ral  Jackson  '  Avith 
your  mouth  open,  he  riz,  an'  when  he  riz  he  was 
shootin'.  An'  it  would  'a'  done  you  good  to 
see  the  way  them  masked  men  humped  them- 
selves. They  jest  nacherly  fell  over  each  other 
in  tryin'  to  .get  to  the  doors,  an'  Ben,  he  made 
a  grab  fur  the  nighest,  thinkin'  to  pull  oil 
the  cloth  that  was  over  his  face,  so't  we  all 
19 


290  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

could  see  who  it  was  ;  but  he  coukln'tget  clost 
enough.  Then  Ben,  he  run  too ;  but  he  come 
back  after  the  grub.  He  said  he  had  been  sent 
fur  it  an'  was  goin'  to  have  it.  Ben  'lowed 
that,  if  they  had  been  soldiers  instead  of  Home 
Guards,  we  wouldn't  never  seen  him  no  more." 

"  And  I  am  afraid  that  we  shall  have  to  deal 
with  soldiers  from  this  time  on,"  re^Dlied  Marcy. 
"  You  wait  and  see  if  Beardsley  doesn't  bring 
some  from  Williamston  when  he  comes  back." 

"  That  there  man  is  buildin'  a  bresh  shanty 
over  his  head  as  fast  as  he  can,"  said  Mr. 
Hawkins.  "  He  won't  have  nary  nigger  cabin 
if  this  thing  can  be  proved  on  him," 

"  But  there  is  going  to  be  the  trouble.  We 
can't  prove  it ;  and  if  some  of  the  Home  Guards 
could  be  frightened  into  making  a  confession, 
Beardsley  would  have  no  trouble  in  proving 
by  his  folks  that  he  wasn't  outside  of  his 
house  last  night." 

It  was  five  o'clock  that  afternoon  when  Marcy 
returned  to  camp  and  made  his  report.  He 
found  there  several  refugees  who  had  spent  the 
day  in  the  settlement,  and  the  stories  they  had 
to  tell  differed  but    little  from  his  own  ;  but 


BEN"   MAKES   A   FAILURE.  291 

Marcy  noticed  that  there  wasn't  one  who 
ventured  to  hint  that  there  was  a  spy  and  in- 
former in  the  camp.  Consequently  he  said 
nothing  about  it  himself,  but  quietly  an- 
nounced that  he  had  concluded  to  change  his 
night  for  foraging.  He  did  not  hesitate  to 
speak  freely,  for  he  noticed  that  there  was  not 
a  single  parolled  prisoner  j^resent.  But  Buff  um 
was  there  and  heard  every  word, 

"It's  my  turn  to  skirmish  to-morrow 
night,"  said  he.  "But  with  the  consent  of 
all  hands  I  think  I  will  put  it  off  until 
Monday   night." 

"You  must  have  some  reason  for  wanting 
to  do  that,"  said  Mr.  Webster,  who  you  will 
remember  was  the  man  who  guided  Marcy  to 
the  camp  on  the  night  Captain  Beardsley's 
schooner  was  burned. 

"I  have  a  very  good  reason  for  it,"  replied 
Marcy.  "The  prime  movers  in  this  matter — 
Tom  Allison  and  Mark  Goodwin  who  got  up 
the  scheme,  and  Beardsley  who  is  carrying  it 
out — are  enemies  of  mine,  and  they  would 
rather  see  me  forced  into  the  army  than  any- 
body else."      And  Marcy  might  have  added 


292  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

that  they  Avere  after  him  and  nobody  else, 
and  that  when  they  caj^tured  him  the  rest  of 
the  refugees  would  be  permitted  to  live  in 
peace. 

"If  that  is  the  case,  you  ought  not  to  go 
foraging  at  all,"   said   Mr.  Webster. 

"When  I  cast  my  lot  with  you  I  expected 
to  share  in  all  your  dangers,"  said  Marcy 
quietly.  "  It  wouldn't  be  right,  but  it  would 
be  cowardly  for  me  to  remain  safe  in  camp 
eating  grub  that  others  foraged  at  the  risk  of 
being  captured  or  shot,  and  I'll  not  do  it.  I 
will  do  my  part  as  I  have  always  tried  to  do, 
but  I  claim  the  right  to  bother  my  enemies  all 
I  can  by  choosing  my  own  time." 

"That's  nothin'  more'n  fair,"  observed 
Buffam.  "I'll  go  in  your  place  to-morrer 
night  an'  you  can  go  in  mine  on  Monday." 

"All  right,"  said  Marcy.  "But  don't  go 
near  my  mother's  house  to-morrow.  It  might 
be  as  dangerous  for  you  as  for  me." 

When  all  the  refugees  reported  at  sundown, 
as  the  camp  regulations  required  them  to  do, 
Marcy' s  plan  for  escaping  cajDture  at  the 
hands  of  the  Home  Guards  was  explained  to 


BEN"   MAKES   A   FAILURE.  293 

them,  and  it  resulted,  as  Tom  Allison  said  it 
would,  in  a  complete  change  in  the  camp 
routine.  The  plan  promised  to  work  admira- 
bly. The  three  men  composing  the  new  detail 
which  went  foraging  that  night  made  their 
way  to  their  homes  in  safety,  visited  a  while 
with  their  families,  and  returned  with  a  supply 
of  provisions  without  having  seen  any  signs  of 
the  enemy  ;  but  the  old  detail  would  surely 
have  been  captured,  for  their  houses  were 
watched  all  night  long,  not  by  Home  Guards, 
but  by  Confederate  veterans  who  had  been 
sent  from  Williamston  at  Beardsley's  sugges- 
tion and  Shelby's.  On  the  night  following 
Mrs.  Gray's  house  was  not  only  watched  but 
searched  from  cellar  to  garret ;  but  that  was 
done  simply  to  throw  Marcy  off  his  guard, 
and  we  are  sorry  to  say  that  it  had  the  desired 
effect.  The  Confederate  soldiers  knew  they 
would  not  find  Marcy  that  night,  for  Captain 
Beardsley  told  them  so  ;  and  Beardsley  him- 
self had  been  warned  by  his  faithful  spy,  Buf- 
fum,  that  Marcy  would  not  go  foraging  again 
until  Monday  night.  By  this  time  all  the 
refugees  became  aware  that  there  was  some- 


294  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

one  among  them  wlio  could  not  be  trusted, 
and  the  knowledge  exasperated  them  almost 
beyond  the  bounds  of  endurance.  The  danger 
was  that  they  might  do  harm  to  an  innocent 
man,  for  they  declared  that  the  smallest  scrap 
of  evidence  against  one  of  their  number  would 
be  enough  to  hang  him  to  the  nearest  tree. 

"I  can  find  that  spy  and  will,  too,  if  this 
thing  goes  on  any  longer,"  said  Ben  Hawkins, 
when  he  and  Marcy  and  Mr.  Webster  were 
talking   the   matter  over  one  daj'-. 

"  Tlien  why  don't  you  do  it?"  demanded 
Marcy.  "It  has  gone  on  long  enough 
already." 

"I'll  do  it  to-morrow  night  if  you  two  will 
stand  by  me,"  said  Ben,  and  Marcy  had  never 
heard  him  talk  so  savagely,  not  even  when  he 
threatened  to  "  twist  "  Tom  Allison's  neck  for 
calling  him  a  coward. 

"We'll  stand  by  you,"  said  Mr.  AVebster  ; 
and  although  he  did  not  show  so  much  anger, 
he  Avas  just  as  determined  that  the  man  who 
was  trying  to  betray  them  into  the  power  of 
the  Confederates  should  be  severely  punished. 
"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ? " 


BEN-   MAKES   A   FAILURE.  295 

"lam  going  to  pull  that  Tom  Allison  out 
of  liis  bed  by  the  neck,  and  say  to  him  that  he 
can  take  his  choice  between  givin'  me  the 
name  of  that  traitor,  an'  bein'  hung  up  to  the 
plates  of  his  paw's  gallery,"  replied  Ben. 

"  That  '11  be  the  way  to  do  it,"  said  Buffum, 
who  happened  to  come  uj)  in  time  to  overhear 
a  portion  of  this  conversation.  In  fact  Buf- 
fum was  always  listening.  He  showed  so 
great  a  desire  to  be  everywhere  at  once,  and  to 
know  all  that  was  going  on,  that  it  was  a 
wonder  he  was  not  suspected.  But  perhaps 
he  took  the  best  course  to  avoid  sus]3icion. 
For  a  man  who  was  known  to  be  lacking  in 
courage,  he  displayed  a  good  deal  of  nerve 
in  carrying  out  the  dangerous  part  of  Mark 
Goodwin's  programme  that  had  been  assigned 
to  him. 

"  Will  you  help  ?  "  inquired  Hawkins. 

"Well,  no  ;  I  don't  know's  I  want  to  help, 
kase  you  all  might  run  agin  some  rebels  when 
you're  goin'  up  to  Allison's  house,"  replied 
Buffum.  "I'd  a  heap  rutlier  stay  in  camp. 
I  never  was  wuth  much  at  fightin',  but  I  can 
forage  as  much  grub  as  the  next  man." 


296  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

There  was  another  thing  Buffum  could  do  as 
well  as  the  next  man,  but  he  did  not  speak  of 
it.  He  could  slip  away  from  camp  after  every- 
body else  was  asleep  or  had  gone  out  foraging, 
make  his  way  through  the  woods  to  Beards- 
ley's  house,  remain  with  him  long  enough  to 
give  the  captain  an  idea  of  Avhat  had  been  go- 
ing on  among  the  refugees  during  the  day,  and 
return  to  his  blanket  in  time  to  have  a  refresh- 
ing nap  and  get  up  with  the  others ;  he  had 
done  it  repeatedly,  and  no  one  was  the  wiser 
for  it.  He  slip]3ed  away  that  night  after  listen- 
ing to  Ben  Hawkins'  threat  to  hang  Tom 
Allison  to  the  plates  of  his  father's  gallery, 
and  perl  laps  we  shall   see  what  came  of  it. 

Under  the  new  rule  it  was  Ben's  turn  to  go 
foraging  that  night,  and  he  went  prei^ared  for 
a  fight.  He  was  armed  with  three  revolvers, 
Marcy's  pair  besides  his  own,  and  took  with 
him  two  soldier  comrades  avIio  could  be  de- 
pended on  in  any  emergency.  They  did  not 
separate  and  give  the  rebels  opportunity  to 
overpower  them  singly,  but  kept  together, 
ready  to  shoot  or  run  as  circumstances  might 
require.     They    were    not    molested    for    the 


BEN   MAKES   A   FAILURE.  297 

simple  reason  that  the  Confederates,  as  we 
have  said,  were  Avatching  other  houses,  know- 
ing nothing  of  the  new  regulation  that  was  in 
force.  They  returned  with  an  ample  supply 
of  food,  and  reported  that  Marcy's  plan  had 
thrown  the  enemy  off  the  trail  completely. 

The  next  day  was  Sunday,  and  Ben  devoted 
a  good  portion  of  it  to  making  up  for  the  sleep 
he  had  lost  the  night  before,  and  the  rest  to 
selecting  and  instructing  the  men  that  were 
to  accompany  him  to  Mr.  Allison's  house. 
Tliere  Avere  nine  of  them,  and  with  the  excep- 
tion of  Mr.  Webster  and  Marcy  they  were  all 
Confederate  soldiers.  This  made  it  plain  to 
Marcy  that  Ben  did  not  expect  to  find  the 
traitor  among  the  men  who  wore  gray  jackets. 
They  set  out  as  soon  as  night  fell,  marching 
along  the  road  in  military  order,  trusting  to 
darkness  to  conceal  their  movements,  and 
moving  at  quick  step,  for  Mr.  Allison's  house 
was  nearly  eight  miles  a^vay.  They  had 
covered  more  than  three-fourths  of  the  dis- 
tance, and  Ben  was  explaining  to  Marcy  how 
the  house  was  to  be  surrounded  by  a  right-and- 
left  oblique  movement,  which  was  to  begin  as 


298  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADEK. 

soon  as  the  little  colnmn  was  fairly  inside  Mr, 
Allison's  gate,  when  their  steps  were  arrested 
by  a  faint,  tremulous  hail  which  came  from 
the  bushes  by  the  roadside.  In  a  second 
more  half  a  dozen  cocked  revolvers  were 
pointed  at  the  spot  from  which  the  voice 
sounded. 

*'Out  of  that!"  commanded  Ben.  "Out 
you  come   with   a  jump." 

"  Dat  you,  Moss'  Hawkins?"  came  in 
husky   tones   from   the   bushes. 

"It's  me  ;  but  I  don't  know  who  you  are, 
an'  you  want  to  be  in  a  hurry  about  showin' 
yourself.     One — two " 

"Hoi' — hoi'  on,  if  you  please,-  sail.  Ise 
comin',"  answered  the  voice,  and  the  next 
minute  a  badly  frightened  black  man  showed 
himself.  "  Say,  Moss'  Hawkins,"  he  con- 
tinued, "whar's    you   all  gwine  ?  " 

"I  don't  know  as  that  is  any  of  your  busi- 
ness," answered  Ben. 

"Dat  I  knows  mighty  well,"  the  darky 
hastened  to  say.  "  Black  ones  aint  got  no 
truck  wid  white  folkses  business  ;  but  you  all 
don't  want  to  go  niglier  to  Mistah  Allison's. 


BEN   MAKES   A   FAILURE.  299 

Da'sa  whole  passel  rebels  up  da'.  I  clone  see 
'em." 

"  What  are  they  doin'  up  there  ?  "  inquired 
Ben,  who  was  very  much  surprised  to  hear  it. 

The  black  man  replied  that  they  were  not 
doing  anything  in  particular  the  last  time  he 
saw  them,  only  just  loitering  about  as  if  they 
were  waiting  for  something  or  somebody. 
They  hadn't  come  to  the  house  by  the  road, 
but  through  the  fields  and  out  of  the  woods  ; 
and  the  care  they  showed  to  keep  out  of  sight 
of  anyone  who  might  chance  to  ride  along  the 
highway,  taken  in  connection  with  the  fact 
that  both  Beardsley  and  Shelby  had  been 
there  talking  to  them,  and  had  afterward  left 
by  the  way  of  a  narrow  lane  that  led  to  a  piece 
of  thick  timber  at  the  rear  of  the  x)lantation — 
all  these  things  made  the  darkies  believe  that 
the  rebels  were  there  for  no  good  purpose,  and 
so  some  of  their  number  had  left  the  quarter 
as  soon  as  it  grew  dark,  to  warn  any  Union 
people  they  might  meet  to  keep  away  from 
Mr.   Allison's  house. 

"Well,  boy,  you've  done  us  a  favor,"  said 
Ben,  when  the  darky  ceased  speaking,  "and 


300  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

if  I  had  a  quarter  in  good  money  I  would  give 
it  to  you.  But  there's  a  bill  of  some  sort  in 
rebel  money.  It's  too  dark  to  see  the  size  of 
it,  but  mebbe  it  will  get  you  half  a  plug  of 
tobacco.  How  many  rebs  are  there  in  the 
l^arty?" 

"  Sarvant,  sah.  Thank  you  kindly,  sah," 
said  the  black  boy,  as  he  took  the  bill.  "Da's 
more'n  twenty  of  'em  in  de  congregation,  an' 
all  ole  soldiers.  A  mighty  rough-lookin'  set 
dey  is  too." 

"That's  the  way  all  rebs  look,"  said  Ben. 
"I  know,  for  I  have  been  one  of  'em.  What 
do  you  s'l^ose  brought  the   soldiers   there?" 

The  darky  replied  that  he  couldn't  make 
out  why  they  came  to  the  house  ;  but  he  knew 
that  the  officer  in  command  had  said  some- 
thing io  Tom,  in  the  presence  of  his  father  and 
mother,  that  threw  them  all  into  a  state  of 
great  agitation.  Tom  especially  was  terribly 
frightened,  and  wanted  to  ride  over  and  pass 
the  night  with  Mark  Goodwin  ;  but  his  father 
wouldn't  let  him  go  for  fear  something  would 
happen  to  him  on  the  road. 

"Well,  Timothy "  began  Ben. 


BEN   MAKES   A   FAILURE.  301 

"Jake,  if  you  please,  sail,"  corrected  tlie 
negro. 

"Well,  Jake,  if  you  keep  still  about  meetin' 
us  nobody  will  ever  hear  of  it.  Off  you  go, 
now.  The  jig's  up,  boys,  an'  we  might  as  well 
strike  for  camp." 


CHAPTER  XII. 

SUKPRISED   AND   CAPTURED. 

'"  ~r  HAVEN'T  the  least  doubt  but  what  the 
-L  nigger  told  the  truth,"  continued  Ben 
Hawkins,  as  Mr.  Allison's  black  boy  disap- 
peared in  the  darkness  and  his  men  gathered 
about  him  to  hear  what  else  he  had  to  say. 
"  Everything  goes  to  prove  that  we  uns  talked 
our  plans  over  in  the  presence  of  somebody 
who  went  straight  to  Beardsley  an'  Shelby 
with  it ;  an'  them  two  went  to  work  an'  brung 
soldiers  enough  up  to  Allison's  house  to  scoop 
us  all  in  the  minute  we  got  there.  But  we  uns 
aint  3'oin'  to  be  scooped  this  night,  thanks  to 
that  nigger.  Twenty,  or  even  six  veterans  is 
too  many  fur  we  uns  to  tackle,  'specially  sence 
some  of  us  aint  never  smelled  much  powder, 
an'  so  we're  goin'  home.  Now,  who's  the 
traitor,  do   you   reckon?" 

There  was  no  answer  to  this  question.     If 
the  refugees  suspected  anybody,  they  did  not 

302 


SURPRISED   AND   CAPTURED.  303 

speak  liis  name.  It  was  a  serious  matter  to  ac- 
cuse one  of  their  number,  none  of  them  were 
willing  to  take  the  responsibility,  and  so  they 
wisely  held  their  peace. 

"  We  aint  got  no  proof  agin  anybody," 
continued  Ben,  "an'  I  don't  know's  I  blame 
you  all  fur  not  wantin'  to  sj^eak  out.  But 
mind  this  :  I  shall  have  an  eye  on  everybody 
in  camp — everybody,  I  said — an'  the  fust  one 
who  crooks  his  finger  will  have  to  tell  a  tol'able 
straight  story  to  keep  out  of  trouble.  Fall  in, 
and  counter-march  by  file,  left.  Quick  time 
now,  an'  keep  your  guns  in  your  hands,  kase 
when  them  rebs  up  to  the  house  find  that 
we  uns  aint  goin'  to  run  into  their  trap,  they 
may  try  to  head  us  off." 

The  return  march  was  made  in  silence,  each 
member  of  the  squad  being  engrossed  with  his 
own  thoughts.  Tom  Allison  and  Mark  Good- 
win were  uppermost  in  their  minds,  and  there 
was  not  one  of  the  refugees  who  did  not  tell 
himself  that  it  would  be  better  for  the  settle- 
ment if  those  two  mischief-makers  were  well 
out  of  it.  They  reached  camp  without  any 
trouble  and  reported  their  failure  and  talked 


304  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

about  it  as  freely  as  though  they  never  sus- 
pected that  there  was  somebodj^  in  their  midst 
wlio  was  to  blame  for  it.  Acting  on  the  hint 
Ben  Hawkins  gave  them  the  parolled  Con- 
federates watched  everybody,  their  comrades 
as  well  as  the  civilians,  and  talked  incessantly 
in  the  hope  that  the  guilty  one  might  be  led  to 
betray  himself  by  an  inadvertent  word  or  ges- 
ture ;  but  they  paid  the  least  attention  to  the 
man  who  could  have  told  them  the  most  about 
it.  Ben  Hawkins  would  have  suspected  him- 
self almost  as  soon  as  he  would  have  suspected 
Bnffum. 

Monday  evening  came  all  too  soon  forMarcy 
Gray,  avIio,  with  a  feeling  of  depression  he  had 
never  before  experienced,  made  ready  to  take 
his  turn  at  foraging.  He  announced  that  it 
was  his  intention  to  go  to  his  mother's  house 
alone,  because  one  person  might  be  able  to  ap- 
proach the  dwelling  unobserved,  while  three 
could  not  make  a  successful  fight  if  the  enemy 
were  on  the  watch.  No  one  offered  objection 
to  this  arrangement,  if  we  except  the  boy 
Julius,  who  positively  refused  to  be  left  be- 
hind, declaring  that  if  his  master  would  not 


SURPRISED   AND   CAPTURED.  305 

take  liim  to  the  main-land  in  liis  boat,  he 
would  swim  the  bayou  and  folloAv  him  any- 
how. 

When  the  time  came  for  Marcy  to  start  he 
shook  hands  with  all  the  refugees,  Buffum  in- 
cluded, and  pushed  off  from  the  island  alone. 
He  concealed  his  canoe  when  he  reached  the 
other  shore  and  was  about  to  plunge  into  the 
woods,  when  a  slight  splashing  in  the  water 
and  the  sound  of  suppressed  conversation  came 
from  the  bank  he  had  just  left.  At  least  two 
or  three  persons  were  shoving  off  from  the 
island  to  follow  him,  and  Marcy,  believing 
that  he  could  call  them  by  name,  waited  for 
them  to  come  up.  The  night  was  so  dark  and 
the  bushes  so  thick  that  his  friendly  pursuers 
did  not  see  him  until  the  bow  of  their  boat 
touched  the  shore  and  they  began  to  step 
out. 

"Now,  Ben,"  said  Marcy  reproachfully, 
"  I  shall  feel  much  more  at  my  ease  if  you  will 
turn  around  and  go  back." 

"Oh,  hursli,  honey!"  rei^lied  Julius. 
"We  uns   gwine   fight   de   rebels,   too." 

"Don't  you  know   that   if  you  and   your 

20 


306  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TEADER 

friends  are  captured  you  will  be  treated  as 
deserters?"  continued  Marcy,  addressing 
himself  to  Hawkins  and  paying  no  attention 
to  Julius.  "You  have  been  ordered  to  report 
for  duty  and  haven't  done  it,  and  I  suppose 
you  know  what  that  means." 

"A  heap  better' n  you  do  at  this  time,  but 
not  better' n  you  will  if  you  are  tooken  an' 
packed  off  to  AVilliamston,"  answered  Ben. 
"You'd  die  in  less'n  a  month  if  you  was 
forced  into  the  army,  kase  you  aint  the  right 
build  to  stand  the  hard  knocks  you'll  get. 
But  we  uns  don't  'low  to  be  took  pris'ner  or 
let  you  be  took,  either." 

"I  appreciate    your    kindness "    began 

Marcy. 

"  You  needn't  say  no  more,  kase  we  uns  has 
made  it  up  to  go  with  you,  an'  we  aint  goin' 
to  turn  back,"  interrupted  Ben.  "We  uns 
will  stay  outside  the  house  an'  watch,  an'  you 
can  go  in  an'  get  the  grub.  Pull  the  boat 
ashore,  boys,  an'  shove  her  into  the  bresh  out 
of  sight." 

There  is  no  use  in  saying  that  Marcy  did 
not  feel  relieved  to  know  that  he  would  have 


SURPEISED   A'ND   CAPTURED.  307 

four  friends  at  his  back  if  he  got  into  trouble, 
because  he  did.  There  were  three  Confederate 
veterans,  and  Julius  made  the  fourth  friend  ; 
but  Julius  counted,  for  he  had  already  proved 
that  he  was  worth  something  in  an  emergency. 
Marcy  made  no  further  effort  to  turn  them 
back,  but  shook  them  all  warmly  by  the  hand 
and  led  the  way  toward  his  mother's  planta- 
tion. It  took  them  two  hours  to  reach  it,  for 
they  kept  under  cover  of  the  woods  as  long  as 
they  could,  and  followed  blind  ditches  and 
brush-lined  fences  when  it  became  necessary 
for  them  to  cross  oipen  fields,  and  so  cautious 
were  they  in  their  movements  that  when  Ben 
came  to  a  halt  behind  a  rose-bush  in  full 
view  of  the  great  house,  he  gave  it  as  his 
opinion  that  an  owl  would  not  have  seen  or 
heard  them,  if  there  had  been  one  on  the 
watch. 

"An'  although  we  uns  aint  seen  no  rebels, 
that  don't  by  no  means  prove  that  there  aint 
none  around,"  added  Ben.  "  Marcy,  you  stay 
here,  an'  the  rest  of  us  will  kinder  sneak 
around  t'other  side  the  house  an'  take  a  look 
at  things.     Julius,  you  come  with  me,  kase 


308  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

you  know  tlie  lay  of  tlie  land  an'  I  don't. 
You  two  boys  go  tliat-a-way ;  an'  if  you  run 
onto  anytliing  don't  stop  to  ask  questions,  but 
shoot  to  kill.  It's  a  matter  of  life  an'  death 
with  all  of  we  uns,  except  the  nigger." 

Marcy's  friends  moved  away  in  different 
directions,  and,  when  they  were  out  of  sight 
and  hearing,  he  walked  around  the  rose-bush 
and  sat  down  on  the  ground  so  close  to  the 
house  that  he  could  recognize  the  servants 
who  passed  in  and  out  of  the  open  door, 
through  which  a  light  streamed  into, the  dark- 
ness. He  longed  to  call  one  of  them  to  his 
hiding-place  and  send  a  comforting  message  to 
the  anxious  mother,  who  he  knew  was  waiting 
for  him  in  the  sitting  room,  but  he  was  afraid 
to  do  it.  There  wasn't  a  negro  on  the  place 
who  could  be  trusted  as  far  as  that.  If  he 
tried  to  attract  the  notice  of  one  of  them,  the 
darky  would  be  sure  to  shriek  out  with  terror 
and  seek  safety  in  flight,  and  Marcy  did  not 
want  to  frighten  his  mother.  So  he  sat  still 
and  waited  for  Ben  Hawkins,  who,  after  half 
an  hour's  absence,  returned  with  the  gratify- 
ing intelligence  that  the  coast  was  clear,  and 


SUEPEISED   AND   CAPTURED.  309 

Marcy  could  go  ahead  with  his  foraging  as 
soon  as  he   pleased. 

"If  there's  ary  reb  in  this  here  garding  he 
must  be  hid  in  the  ground,  or  else  some  of 
we  uns  would  surely  have  stepped  onto  him," 
said  Ben.  "  Beardsley  didn't  look  fur  you  to 
come  to-night,  an'  that's  all  the  ]3roof  I  want 
that  we  uns  has  got  ahead  of  that  traitor  of 
ourn   fur  once,  dog-gone  his   pictur'." 

"Where  are  the  rest  of  the  boys?"  whis- 
pered  Marcy. 

"They're  gardin'  three  sides  of  the  house, 
an'  when  you  go  in  I'll  stay  here  an'  guard  the 
fourth,"  answered  Ben.  "Off  you  go,  now. 
Crawl  up." 

Marcy  lingered  a  moment  to  shake  Ben's 
hand,  and  then  arose  to  his  feet  and  walked 
toward  the  house.  If  Ben'srex)ort  was  correct 
there  was  no  need  of  concealment.  He  stopped 
on  the  way  to  speak  to  the  darkies  in  the 
kitchen,  and  his  sudden  aj^pearance  at  the 
door  threw  them  into  the  wildest  commotion. 
They  made  a  simultaneous  rush  for  the  rear 
window,  intending  to  crawl  through  and  take 
to  their  heels ;  but  the  sound  of  his  familiar 


310  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

voice  reassured  tliem.  Raising  his  Land  to 
silence  their  cries  of  alarm  Marcy  said  impres- 
sively : 

"Do  you  black  ones  want  to  see  me  captured 
by  the  rebels  ?  Or  do  you  want  to  frighten 
my  mother  to  death?  If  you  don't,  keep 
still." 

"Moss'  Mahcy,"  protested  the  cook,  who 
was  the  first  to  recover  from  her  fright,  "dey 
aint  no  rebels  round  hyar.  I  aint  seed  none 
dis  whole  blessed " 

"For  all  that  there  may  be  some  concealed 
in  the  garden  and  ready  to  jump  on  me  at  any 
moment,"  interrupted  Marcy.  "Now,  don't 
go  to  prowling  about.  If  you  do  you  will  be 
frightened  again,  for  I  have  friends  out  there 
in  the  bushes  and  you  might  run  upon  them 
in  the  dark." 

So  saying  Marcy  turned  from  the  kitchen 
and  went  into  the  house,  passing  on  the  way 
two  large  baskets  which  had  been  filled  with 
food  and  placed  in  the  hall  ready  to  his  hand, 
so  that  there  would  be  nothing  to  detain  him 
in  so  dangerous  a  place  as  his  mother's  house 
was  known  to  be.     Mrs.  Gray  came  from  the 


SURPRISED   AND    CAPTURED.  311 

sitting  room  to  meet  liim,  for  slie  heard  his 
step  the  moment  he  crossed  the  threshold. 
•     "O  Marcy  !   I  am  so  glad  to  see   yon,  but 
I  am  almost  sorry  you  came,"  was  the  way  in 
which  she  greeted  him. 

"Seen  anything  alarming?"  inquired  the 
boy. 

"No;  and  that  very  circumstance  excites 
my  suspicion.  There  are  Confederate  soldiers 
in  the  neighborhood,  for  Morris  saw  several  of 
them  in  Nashville  this  morning.  I  shall  never 
become  accustomed  to  this  terrible  way  of 
living." 

"  No  more  shall  I,  but  the  only  way  to  put 
a  stop  to  it  is  to — what  in  the  world  is  that  ? " 
exclaimed  Marcy  ;  for  just  then  a  smothered 
cry  of  astonishment  and  alarm,  that  was  sud- 
denly cut  short  in  the  middle,  sounded  in  the 
direction  of  the  kitchen,  followed  by  an  inde- 
scribable commotion  such  as  might  have  been 
made  by  the  shuflling  feet  of  men  who  were 
engaged  in  a  hand-to-hand  contest.  A  second 
afterward  pistol-shots — not  one  or  a  dozen,  but 
a  volley  of  them  rattled  around  the  house, 
telling  Marcy  in  plain  terms  that  Ben  Hawkins 


312  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

and  liis  comrades  had  been  assailed  on  all 
sides. 

"O  Marcy,  they've  got  you!"  cried  Mrs. 
Gray  ;  and  forgetful  of  herself,  and  think- 
ing only  of  his  safety,  she  flung  her  arms 
about  his  neck  and  threw  herself  between  him 
and  the  open  door,  protecting  his  person  with 
her  own, 

"Not  yet,"  replied  the  boy  between  his 
clenched  teeth.  "I  might  as  well  die  here  as 
in  the  army." 

Tightening  his  grasp  on  his  mother's  waist 
Marcy  swung  her  behind  him  with  one  arm,  at 
the  same  time  reaching  for  the  revolver  whose 
heavy  butt  protruded  from  the  leg  of  his  right 
boot ;  but  before  he  could  straighten  up  with 
the  weapon  in  his  hand,  two  men  in  Confeder- 
ate uniform  rushed  into  the  room  from  the 
hall,  and  two  cocked  revolvers  were  pointed  at 
his  head.  Resistance  would  have  been  mad- 
ness. The  men  had  him  covered,  their  ready 
fingers  were  resting  on  the  triggers,  and  an 
effort  on  Marcy' s  part  to  level  his  own  weapon 
would  have  been  the  signal  for  his  death. 
These  things  happened  in  much  less  time  than 


SURPEISED   AND   CAPTUEED.  313 

we  have  taken  to  describe  them,  and  all  the 
while  a  regular  light,  a  sharp  one,  too,  had 
been  going  on  outside  the  house,  and  with  the 
rattle  of  carbines  and  revolvers  were  mingled 
the  screams  of  the  terrified  negroes ;  but 
Marcy  Gray  and  his  mother  did  not  know  it. 
Their  minds  were  filled  with  but  one  thought, 
and  that  was  that  Beardsley  had  got  the  upper 
hand  of  them  at  last. 

"  If  you  move  an  eyelid  you  are  a  dead  con- 
script," said  the  foremost  of  the  two  rebels  at 
the  door,  and  whom  Marcy  afterward  knew  as 
Captain  Fletcher.  As  he  spoke  he  came  into 
the  room  and  took  the  revolver  from  Marcy' s 
hand. 

"Captain,  I  see  the  mate  to  that  sticking 
out  of  his  boot,"  said  the  other  soldier;  and 
not  until  the  captain  had  taken  possession  of 
that  revolver  also  did  his  comrade  think  it 
safe  to  put  up  his  weapon. 

At  this  moment  the  firing  outside  ceased  as 
suddenly  as  it  had  begun.  Captain  Fletcher 
noticed  it  if  Marcy  did  not,  and  ordered  his 
man  to  "go  out  and  take  a  look  and  come  in 
and  report."     Then  Marcy  led  his  mother  to 


314  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER, 

the  sofa  and  sat  down  beside  lier,  while  tlie 
captain  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  room  with 
his  revolver  in  his  hand  and  looked  at  him. 

"You've  got  me  easy  enough,"  said  Marcy, 
trying  to  put  a  bold  face  on  the  matter. 
"And  now  I  should  like  to  know  what  you 
intend  to  do   with  me." 

"My  orders  are  to  take  you  to  Williams- 
ton,"  replied  the  captain,  who  seemed  to  be  a 
good  fellow  at  heart.  "I  am  sorry,  but  you 
would  have  saved  yourself  and  me  some 
trouble  if  you  had  gone  there  the  minute  you 
were  conscripted." 

"I  never  knew  before  that  I  had  been  con- 
scripted," answered  Marcy. 

"Every  man  and  boy  in  the  Confederacy 
who  is  able  to  do  duty  must  go  into  the  army," 
said  the  captain  slowly  and  impressively. 
"  If  he  will  not  go  willingly  he'll  be  forced  in." 

"  There  are  so  many  men  and  boys  in  the 
Confederacy  who  do  not  want  to  go  into  the 
service  that  I  should  think  it  would  take  half 
your  army  to  hunt  them  up." 

"It's  a  heap  of  bother,"  admitted  the  cap- 
tain, "  and  it  takes  men  w^e  cannot  afford  to 


SURPRISED   AND   CAPTURED.  315 

spare  from  the  front  just  now.  Perhaps  you 
had  better  take  a  few  clothes  and  a  blanket 
with  you  ;  but  I  shall  have  to  ask  your  mother 
to  get  them,  for  I  want  you  where  I  can  keej) 
an  eye  on  you.     Captain  Beardsley  says " 

"Go  on,"  said  Marcy,  when  the  captain 
paused  and  caught  his  breath.  "You  can't 
tell  me  anything  about  Beardsley  that  I  don't 
know  already.  He  and  Shelby  are  at  the  bot- 
tom of  this,  and  I  am  well  aware  of  it.  I  don' t 
see  why  you  don't  hang  those  men.  They 
have  taken  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  the 
United   States  Government." 

"  I  don't  approve  of  anything  like  that,  but 
all's  fair  in  war,"  replied  the  captain,  who 
seemed  to  know  all  about  it.  "A  loyal 
soldier  wouldn't  have  done  it,  but  Beardsley 
and  Shelby  are  civilians  and  the  Yanks 
frightened  them  into  it.  However,  they  are 
working  for  our  side  as  hard  as  they  ever  did, 
and  that's  about  all  we  care  for." 

When  the  captain  ceased  speaking  Mrs. 
Gray  arose  from  the  sofa  and  went  to  Marcy' s 
room  to  pack  a  valise  for  him.  There  were  no 
traces  of  tears  on  her  white,  set  face,  and  her 


316  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

step  was  as  firm  as  it  ever  was.  She  was  bear- 
ing up  bravelj^,  for  she  had  long  schooled  her- 
self for  just  such  a  scene  as  this.  When  she 
left  the  room  the  captain  slipped  his  revolver 
into  its  holster,  took  possession  of  an  easy- 
chair,  and  leaned  back  in  it  with  a  long-drawn 
sigh. 

"I'd  rather  face  a  dozen  Yanks  than  one 
woman,"  said  he.  "I  hope  she'll  not  break 
down  when  she  bids  you  good-by." 

"You  need  have  no  fears  on  that  score," 
answered  Marcy.  "I  judge  you  don't  like 
the  unpleasant  work  you  are  engaged  in  any 
too  well,  and  my  mother  will  do  nothing  to 
make  it  harder  for  you." 

"  You're  mighty  right,  I  don't  like  it,"  said 
the  captain  emphatically.  "  Any  place  in  the 
world  but  an  invalid  corps.  They  have  all  the 
dirty  work  to  do.  It  suits  some  cowards,  but 
I'd  rather  be  at  the  front,  and  there  I  hope  to 
go  next  week.  Well,  corporal?"  he  added, 
turning  to  the  man  he  had  sent  out  of  the 
room  a  few  minutes  before.  "How  many  of 
them  were  there?" 

"A  dozen  or  so,  sir,  judging  by  the  fight 


SURPRISED   AND   CAPTURED.  317 

tliey  made  and  the  work  they  did,"  replied 
the  soldier. 

"Are  you  speaking  of  my  friends?" 
inquired  Marcy,  who  now  remembered  that 
there  had  been  something  of  a  commotion  out- 
side the  house.  "  Well,  there  were  just  three 
of  them,  not  counting  an  unarmed  negro  boy." 

"  Do  you  want  me  to  believe  that  three  con- 
scripts could  stand  off  twenty  old  soldiers?" 
demanded  the  corporal. 

"  Great  Scott !  "  exclaimed  Marcy,  who  was 
really  surprised.  "Did  you  bring  twenty 
men  here  to  capture  me  ?  You  are  a  brave 
lot." 

"Braver  than  you  who  took  to  the  woods  to 
keep  from  going  into  the  array,"  answered  the 
angry  corporal.  "We  can't  find  hair  nor 
hide  of  them,  sir,"  he  added,  turning  to  his 
officer.  "But  they  left  us  four  dead  men  to 
remember  them  by,  and  nary  one  wounded." 

Marcy  was  horrified.  Ben  Hawkins  had 
followed  his  own  advice  and  shot  to  kill.  He 
was  glad  to  hear  the  corporal  say  that  his 
friends  had  managed  to  escape  in  the  dark- 
ness, but  what  effect  would  the  gallant  fight 


318  SAILOE  JACK,  THE  TEADER. 

they  made  have  upon  his  own  pi-ospects  ?  He 
was  glad,  too,  that  there  was  a  commissioned 
officer  among  his  captors,  for  he  did  not  lilve 
the  way  the  corporal  glared  at  him.  And 
finally,  would  his  capture  bring  Tom  Allison 
and  Mark  Goodwin  into  trouble  with  the 
refugees  ? 

"  It  certainly  did  bring  therii  into  trouble," 
interrupted  Rodney.  "They  were  bush- 
whacked." 

"How  do  you  know?"  demanded  Marcy, 
starting  up   in   his   chair. 

"Jack  said  so  in  his  last  letter.  And  he 
said,  further,  that  your  good  friends  Beards- 
ley  and  Shelby,  and  one  other  whose  name  I 
have  forgotten,  were  burned  out  so  clean  that 
they  didn't  have  a  nigger  cabin  left  to  shelter 
them." 

"  Were  Tom  and  Mark  killed  ? " 

"I  suppose  they  were,  but  Jack  wasn't 
explicit  on  that  point.  You  would  be  sorry 
to  hear  it,  of  course." 

"I  certainly  would,  for  I  used  to  be  good 
friends  with  those  boys  before  a  few  crazy 
men  kicked  ui^  this  war  and  set  us  together 


SURPRISED   AND   CAPTURED.  319 

by  the  ears,"  said  Marcy  sadly.  ^'But  tliey 
could  blame  no  one  but  themselves.  I  wonder 
that  Beardsley  wasn't  bushwhacked  also." 

Then  Marcy  settled  back  in  his  chair  and 
went  on  with  his  story.  He  told  how  he 
listened  to  the  conclusion  of  the  corporal's 
report,  during  which  he  learned,  what  he  had 
all  along  more  than  half  suspected,  that  the 
Confederates  had  surrounded  the  house  and 
were  lying  concealed  in  the  garden  when  he 
and  his  companions  arrived.  They  saw 
Marcy' s  friends  reconnoiter  the  premises,  but 
made  no  effort  to  capture  them  for  the  reason 
that  they  had  received  strict  orders  not  to 
move  until  Captain  Fletcher  gave  the  signal, 
which  he  did  as  soon  as  he  saw  Marcy  enter 
the  house.  He  and  the  corporal  lost  no  time 
in  following  and  coming  to  close  quarters  with 
him,  for  they  knew  they  would  find  the  boy 
armed,  and  that  it  would  be  dangerous  to  give 
him  a  chance  to  defend  himself.  When  they 
left  their  place  of  concealment  and  ran  around 
the  kitchen,  they  encountered  Aunt  Martha 
the  cook,  who  saw  and  recognized  their  uni- 
forms as  they  passed  her  window,  and  started 


320  SAILOR   JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

at  the  top  of  her  speed  for  the  house,  hoping 
to  warn  her  young  master  so  that  he  could 
escape  through  the  cellar,  as  he  had  done  once 
before.  But  the  corporal  seized  her,  promptly 
choked  off  the  warning  cry  that  arose  to  her 
lips,  and  then  began  that  furious  struggle  that 
had  attracted  Marcy's  attention. 

"She  was  strong  and  savage,"  said  the 
captain  with  a  laugh,  "and  for  a  time  it 
looked  as  though  she  would  get  the  better  of 
both  of  us.  If  she  didn't  do  that,  I  was  afraid 
she  would  make  such  a  fight  that  you  would 
hear  it  and  dig  out ;  but  fortunately  two  of 
my  men  came  to  our  aid  just  in  the  nick  of 
time." 

"  I  hope  you  didn't  hurt  her,"  said  Marcy. 

"I  choked  her  into  silence,  you  bet," 
replied  the  corporal,  who  then  stated  that  the 
firing  began  when  the  Confederates  rose  to 
their  feet  and  tried  to  capture  Marcy's  friends. 
They  got  more  bullets  than  captives,  however, 
and  the  captain  had  foiir  less  men  under  his 
command  now  than  he  had  when  the  fight 
commenced. 

"You    have    wagons  on  the  place,  I  sup- 


SLTRPEISED   AND   CAPTURED.  321 

pose?"  said  the  captain  to  Marcy,  when  the 
corporal  intimated  by  a  salute  that  his  report 
was  ended.  "Very  well.  We'll  have  to  bor- 
row one  of  them  to  take  the  bodies  to  Williams- 
ton.  I  did  intend  to  visit  two  other  houses 
to-night,  but  I  shouldn't  make  anything  by  it 
now,  for  of  course  the  whole  settlement  has 
been  alarmed  by  the  firing.  Go  and  see  about 
that  wagon,  corporal." 

As  the  non-commissioned  officer  disapi)eared 
through  one  door  Marcy' s  mother  came  in  at 
another,  carrying  a  well-filled  valise  in  her 
hand.  It  was  not  locked,  and  she  opened  and 
presented  it  for  the  captain's  inspection. 

"  There  is  nothing  in  it  except  a  few  articles 
which  I  know  will  be  useful  to  my  boy  while 
he  is  in  the  army,"  said  she. 

"That  assurance  is  sufficient,"  replied  the 
captain.  "Now,  as  soon  as  the  corporal 
reports  that  wagon  ready,  we  will  rid  yonr 
house  of  our  unwelcome  presence.  I  am  sorry 
indeed  that  I  had  this  work  to  do,  but  the 
Yankees  are  to  blame  for  it.  If  they  hadn't 
shot  me  almost  to  death  in  the  last  battle  I 
was  in,  I  should  now  be  at  the  front  where  I 

21 


322  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TEADER. 

belong.  I  wish  your  son  might  have  got 
away,  but  I  was  ordered  to  take  him  and  I  was 
obliged  to  do  it." 

"  We  have  seen  enough  of  this  war  to  know 
that  a  soldier's  business  is  to  do  as  he  is  told, 
no  matter  who  gets  hurt  by  it,"  said  Marcy, 
speaking  for  his  mother,  who  seated  herself  on 
the  sofa  by  his  side  and  looked  at  him  as 
though  she  never  expected  to  see  him  again. 
"I  don't  mind  telling  you,  captain,  that  if  I 
could  have  had  my  own  way,  I  should  have 
been  fighting  under  the  Old  Flag  long  ago." 

"  So  I  have  heard;  and  there  are  a  good 
many  men  in  our  army  avIio  think  as  much  of 
the  Union  as  Abe  Lincoln  does,"  answered  the 
captain  truthfully.  ' '  But  don't  say  that  again 
unless  you  know  who  you  are  talking  to." 

' '  Have  you  any  idea  where  Marcy  will  be 
sent?"  asked  Mrs.  Gray,  speaking  with  an 
effort. 

"  Of  course  I  don't  know  for  certain,  but  my 
impression  is  that  he  will  have  to  do  guard 
duty  somewhere.  The  authorities  used  to 
send  conscripts  from  this  State  to  fill  out 
N^orth   Carolina  regiments   in    the  field,    but 


SURPEISED   AND   CAPTURED.  323 

tliey  don't  trouble  themselves  to  do  it  now. 
They  put  them  on  guard  duty  wherever  they 
v^ant  them,  and  send  volunteers  to  the  front." 

"Let  that  ease  your  mind,  mother,"  said 
Marcy,  with  an  attempt  at  cheerfnlness.  "If 
I  am  to  stay  in  the  rear  I  shan't  have  such  a 
very  hard  time  of  it." 

The  captain  opened  his  eyes,  smiled  in- 
credulously, and  ones  or  twice  acted  as  if  he 
were  on  the  point  of  sj)eaking  ;  but  he  thought 
better  of  it,  and  just  then  the  corporal  re- 
turned to  report  that  the  men  had  been  called 
in  and  the  wagon  was  waiting  at  the  door. 
Captain  Fletcher  went  into  the  hall  while 
Marcy  took  leave  of  his  mother,  and  this  gave 
the  latter  opportunity  to  whisper  in  his  ear, 
as  her  head  rested   on   his   shoulder : 

"  Be  careful  of  that  valise,  and  the  first 
chance  you  get  take  the  money  out  of  it. 
You  will  find  one  vest  in  there,  and  the  gold  is 
in  the  right-hand  pocket.  O  Marcy,  this  blow 
will  kill  me." 

"  You  mustn't  let  it.  I  shall  surely  return, 
and  when  I  do  I  want  you  and  Jack  here  to 
welcome  me." 


324  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

Tlie  leave-taking  was  not  prolonged, — it 
would  have  been  torture  to  botli  of  them, — and 
when  Captain  Fletcher  reached  the  carriage 
porch,  Avhere  the  corporal  stood  holding  three 
horses  by  the  bridle,  Marcy  was  at  his  side. 

"Mount  that  horse  and  come  on,"  said  the 
captain.  "  When  we  overtake  the  wagon  you 
can  put  your  valise  in  it." 

But  that  valise  was  much  too  valuable  to  be 
placed  in  the  wagon,  or  anywhere  else  that  a 
thieving  Confederate  could  get  his  hands  on 
it,  so  Marcy  replied  that  if  it  was  all  the  same 
to  the  captain  he  would  tie  it  to  the  horn  of  his 
saddle,  where  he  could  keep  an  eye  on  it.  He 
mounted  the  horse  that  was  pointed  out  to 
him,  kissed  his  hand  to  his  mother,  said  a 
cheery  good-by  to  the  weeping  blacks,  who  had 
at  last  found  courage  to  come  into  the  house, 
and  rode  on  after  the  wagon,  which  had  by  this 
time  passed  through  the  front  gate  into  tlie 
road.  Marcy  was  the  only  prisoner  the  Con- 
federates captured  that  night,  and  he  had  cost 
them  the  lives  of  four  men.  The  soldier  who 
had  once  owned  the  horse  he  was  riding  was 
one  of  the  unfortunates.     Marcy  would  have 


SUllPRISED   AND   CAPTURED.  325 

given  much  to  know  whether  Ben  Hawkins 
and  his  comrades  escaped  unscathed,  but  that 
was  something  he  never  expected  to  hear,  for 
he  was  by  no  means  as  sure  that  he  would 
come  back  to  his  home  as  he  pretended  to  be. 
Others  had  been  killed,  and  what  right  had 
he   to  assume   that  he  would  escape? 

"This  scout  hasn't  amounted  to  a  row  of 
pins,"  observed  Cai)tain  Fletcher,  when  he 
and  Marcy  came  up  with  the  wagon  and  rode 
behind  it.  "I  expected  to  find  the  country 
alive  with  Yankee  cavalry  and  to  fight  my 
way  against  a  small  army  of  refugees,  who 
would  ambush  me  from  the  time  I  left 
Williamston  till  I  got  back.  That  is  the 
reason  I  brought  so  large  a  squad  with  me.  I 
have  been  out  four  days,  and  what  have  I  to 
show  for  my  trouble?  Four  dead  men  and 
three  prisoners.  I  don't  like  such  work,  and 
shall  get  back  to  Virginia  as  soon  as  I  can." 

The  captain  relapsed  into  silence,  and  dur- 
ing the  rest  of  the  journey  Marcy  was  at 
liberty  to  commune  undisturbed  with  his  own 
gloomy  thoughts. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

IN   WILLIAMSTON   JAIL. 

"  I  j^RESH  jSsli !  wliere  did  you  come  from? 
J-  Are  you  a  deserter  or  a  conscript  ?'' 
It  was  about  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 
Marcy  Gray  was  in  Williamston  jail  at  last, 
and  this  was  the  way  he  was  welcomed  when 
the  heavy  grated  door  clanged  behind  him. 
Much  to  his  relief  he  was  not  thrust  into  a  cell 
as  he  thought  he  would  be,  but  into  a  large 
room  which  was  already  so  crowded  that  it 
did  not  seem  as  though  there  could  be  space 
for  one  more.  The  inmates  gathered  eagerly 
about  him,  all  asking  questions  at  once,  and 
although  some  of  them  affected  to  look  upon 
their  capture  and  confinement  as  a  huge  joke, 
Marcy  saw  at  a  glance  that  the  majority  were 
as  miserable  as  he  was  himself.  While  he  told 
his  story  in  as  few  words  as  possible  he  looked 
around  for  the  two  foragers  who  had  been 
captured  on  the  night  that  Ben  Hawkins  was 


IN   WILLIAMSTON   JAIL.  327 

surprised  in  his  father's  house,  and  failing  to 
discover  them  he  shouted  out  their  names. 
They  had  had  a  few  days'  experience  as  pris- 
oners, and  could  perhaps  give  him  some  needed 
advice. 

"Oh,  they're  gone,"  said  one. 

"  Gone  where  ?  "  inquired  Marcy. 

"Nobody  knows.  This  room  was  cleaned 
out  on  the  very  day  they  were  brought  in,  and 
your  two  friends  went  with  the  rest  to  do 
guard  duty  somewhere  down  South,  All  of 
us  you  see  here  have  been  captured  during  the 
last  two  or  three  days." 

"How  long  do  you  think  it  will  be  before 
we  will  be  shipped  off?" 

"It  won't  be  long,"  said  the  prisoner,  "for 
this  room  is  about  as  full  as  it  will  hold. 
What  are  you  anyway  ?  Union  or  secesh  ?  " 

Before  Marcy  could  make  any  reply  to  this 
unexpected  question,  someone  who  stood  be- 
hind him  gave  him  a  gentle  poke  in  the  ribs. 
He  took  it  for  a  warning,  as  indeed  it  was 
intended  to  be,  and  turned  away  without  say- 
ing a  word.  The  incident  frightened  him,  for 
it  proved  that  there  were  some  among  the 


328  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

prisoners  whom  their  companions  in  misery 
were  afraid  to  trust.  He  began  to  wonder  how 
it  would  be  possible  for  him  to  secure  posses- 
sion of  the  gold  pieces  which  his  thoughtful 
mother  had  placed  in  his  vest  pocket.  There 
were  some  hard-looking  fellows  among  the 
prisoners,  men  of  the  Kelsey  and  Hanson 
stamp,  and  Marcy  was  not  far  wrong  when  he 
told  himself  it  would  never  do  to  let  them 
know  or  suspect  that  he  was  well  supplied 
with  good  money.  Holding  fast  to  his  blanket 
and  valise  he  freed  himself  from  the  crowd  as 
soon  as  he  could,  and  taking  his  stand  by  an 
open  grated  window,  began  looking  about  in 
search  of  a  face  whose  owner  seemed  to  him 
worthy  of  confidence  ;  for  Marcy  felt  the  need 
of  a  friend  now  as  he  had  never  felt  it  before. 
As  good  fortune  would  have  it,  the  first  man 
who  attracted  his  notice  was  Charley  Bowen, 
and  he  turned  out  to  be  the  one  who  had 
given  him  the  warning  poke  in  the  ribs.  His 
was  an  honest  face  if  there  ever  was  one,  and 
Marcy  liked  tlie  way  the  man  conducted  him- 
self. He  took  no  part  in  the  joking  and 
laughing.     He  looked  as  serious  as  Marcy  felt, 


IN   WILLIAMSTON   JAIL,  329 

but  did  not  seem  to  be  utterly  cast  down,  as 
many  of  the  prisoners  were,  because  he  knew 
he  was  going  to  be  forced  into  the  army. 
When  he  saw  that  Marcy's  eyes  were  fixed 
upon  him  with  an  inquiring  look,  he  gradu- 
ally  worked  his  way  out  of  the  crowd  and 
came  up  to  the  window, 

"  You  look  as  though  you  had  been  used  to 
better  quarters  than  these  and  better  company, 
too,"  was  the  way  he  began  the  conversation. 

"And  so  do  you,"  replied  Marcy, 

"  I  never  was  shut  up  in  jail  before,  if  that 
is  what  you  mean.  You  see  I  don't  belong  in 
this  part  of  the  country.  I  got  this  far  on  my 
way  up  from  Georgia,  intending  to  get  outside 
the  Confederate  lines  if  I  could,  but  I  was 
gobbled  at  last,  and  within  sight  of  the  Union 
flag  at  Plymouth," 

"That  was  hard  luck  indeed,"  answered 
Marcy.  ' '  You  earned  your  freedom  and 
ought  to  have  had  it.  Why,  you  must  have 
travelled  four  or  five  hundred  miles.  What 
excuse  did  the  rebels  make  for  arresting 
you?" 

"Don't  use  that  word  here,"  said  the  man 


330  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

liastily.  "It's  dangerous.  We  have  the  best 
of  reasons  for  believing  that  there  are  spies 
among  us  searching  for  deserters,  and  they 
will  go  straight  to  the  guards  with  every  word 
you  say.  The  man  who  asked  if  you  are 
Union  or  secesli  is    one  of  them." 

"Why  are  they  so  anxious  to  find  desert- 
ers?" asked  Marcy. 

"To  make  an  example  of  them,  I  suppose. 
At  any  rate  the  guards  took  a  deserter  out  of 
this  room  on  the  day  I  came,  and  we've  never 
seen  him  since.  The  men  who  captured  me 
did  not  make  any  excuse  for  holding  me,  if 
that  was  the  question  you  were  going  to  ask. 
They  simply  said  that  I  couldn't  be  of  any  use 
to  the  Yanks  in  Plymouth,  but  could  be  of  a 
good  deal  of  use  in  the  Confederate  army,  and 
so  they  brought  me  along.  Who  are  you  ? 
and   what' s   your  name  ? ' ' 

Marcy  had  not  talked  with  the  man  very 
long  before  he  made  up  his  mind  that  he  had 
found  the  friend  he  needed  ;  but  still  he  was 
afraid  to  trust  him  too  far  on  short  acquaint- 
ance. He  told  Bowen  that  he  was  neither  a 
deserter  nor  a  conscript,  but  a  refugee,  and 


IN    WILLIAMSTON   JAIL.  331 

owed  liis  capture  to  personal  enemies,  who 
would  be  sure  to  suffer  for  it  sooner  or  later  ; 
but  he  did  not  say  that  he  intended  to  escape 
if  his  captors  gave  him  half  a  chance,  or  that 
he  had  some  good  money  in  his  valise.  Con- 
sequently he  Avas  not  a  little  surprised  and 
alarmed  when  Bowen  turned  his  back  to  the 
rest  of  the  prisoners,  and  said  in  an  earnest 
whisper : 

"Have  you  been   searched?" 

"No,"  answered  Marcy.  "What  will  I 
have  to  be  searched  for  ?  My  mother  presented 
my  valise  for  Captain  Fletcher's  inspection, 
but  he  was  gentleman  enough  to  say  he 
wouldn't  look  into  it." 

"  Well,  you'll  be  searched,  and  that  too  just 
as  soon  as  old  Wilkins  learns  something  of 
the  circumstances  under  which  you  were 
captured,"  continued  Bowen  in  the  same 
earnest  whisper.  "It  don't  stand  to  reason 
that  your  mother  would  have  packed  your 
carpetbag  without  slipping  in  a  little  money, 
if  she  had  any,  and  Wilkins  is  hot  after 
money." 

"Who  is  Wilkins,   anyhow?" 


332  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

"The  Confederate  captain  who  commands 
here,  and  he's  a  robber.  He  goes  through 
every  man  who  comes  into  the  jail,  and  you 
will  not  escape.  Why,  he  was  mean  enough 
to  take  three  dollars  in  scrip  from  me.  He 
said  I  would  have  no  use  for  money,  for  the 
government  would  furnish  me  with  grub  and 
clothes.  If  you've  got  anything  you  want  to 
save  you'd  better  let  me  have  it." 

"But  how  do  I  know  that  it  will  be  any 
safer  with  you  than  it  is  with  me  ? "  demanded 
Marcy.  "What  assurance  have  I  that  you 
will  give   it   back  when   I   want  it?" 

"You  haven't  any.  You'll  have  to  take 
my  word    for  it." 

This  was  honest  at  any  rate,  and  something 
prompted  Marcy  to  take  out  the  key  of  his 
valise   and   slip  it  into   Bowen's   hand. 

"Look  for  my  vest  and  feel  in  the  right- 
hand  pocket,"  he  whispered ;  and  then  he 
turned  around  to  engage  the  nearest  of  the 
prisoners  in  conversation  and  draw  their 
attention  away  from  Bo  wen  if  he  could.  It 
looked  like  a  hopeless  task.  The  room  was  so 
full  that  it  did  not  seem  ]')ossible  that  any  of 


IN   WILLIAMSTON  JAIL.  333 

its  inmates  could  make  a  move  without  being 
seen  by  somebody ;  but  as  soon  as  lie  showed 
a  disposition  to  talk  he  found  plenty  ready 
and  eager  to  listen,  for  he  was  the  last  arrival 
and  brought  the  latest  news  from  the  out- 
side world.  He  kept  as  many  as  could 
crowd  around  him  interested  for  perhaps  five 
minutes,  and  then  his  narrative  was  brought 
to  a  close  by  a  commotion  in  the  farther  end  of 
the  room  and  the  entrance  of  a  Confederate 
corporal,  who  elbowed  his  way  into  the  crowd, 
calling  for  Marcy  Gray. 

"Here!"  replied  the  owner  of  that  name. 
"  What  do  you  suppose  he  wants  of  me  ?  "  he 
added  in  an  undertone. 

"  Most  likely  he  wants  to  take  your  descrip- 
tive list,"  said  one  of  the  prisoners,  Avith  a 
wink  at  his   companions. 

*'  But  that  was  done  when  I  came  in,"  said 
Marcy. 

"Did  old  Wilkins  do  it?"  said  the  con- 
script. "I  don't  reckon  he  did,  for  he  has 
been  off  somewhere  since  morning.  If  he's 
got  back  he  will  want  to  see  you  himself." 

That  somebody  wanted  to  see  him  was  made 


334  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

plain  to  Marcy  in  a  very  few  seconds,  for  the 
corporal  worked  Lis  way  through  the  crowd 
until  he  caught  sight  of  the  new  i^risoner,  who 
was  ordered  to  pick  up  his  plunder  and  "come 
along  down  to  the  office"  ;  and,  what  was 
more,  the  corporal  watched  him  to  see  that 
he  did  not  leave  any  of  his  "plunder" 
behind. 

"That  proves  that  the  descriptive  list  of 
your  valise  hasn't  been  taken,"  whisioered  one 
of  the  prisoners,  as  Marcy  followed  the  cor- 
poral toward   the   door. 

When  he  picked  up  his  valise  he  noticed 
that  the  key  was  in  the  lock,  and  of  course 
Bowen  must  have  put  it  there  ;  but  whether 
he  had  had  time  to  examine  the  vest  and  find 
the  precious  gold  pieces  was  a  question  that 
could  not  be  answered  now.  "  Old  Wilkins" 
would  no  doubt  answer  it  in  about  five 
minutes,  was  what  Marcy  said  to  himself,  as 
he  followed  his  guide  down  a  flight  of  stairs 
into  a  wide  hall,  which  was  paved  with  brick 
and  lined  on  both  sides  with  dark,  narrow 
cells.  Marcy  shuddered  when  he  glanced  at 
the  pale,  hollow-eyed  captives    on  the  other 


IT^^  WILLIAMSTON   JAIL.  335 

side  of  the  grated,  doors,  avIio  crowded  up  to 
look   at  liim   as   lie   passed  along   tlie   hall. 

' '  Who  are  these  ?  "  he  whispered  to  his 
conductor. 

"Deserters  and  the  meanest  kind  of  Yankee 
sympathizers,"  was  the  answer.  "Men  Avho 
give  aid  and  comfort  to  the  enemy  while 
honest  soldiers  are  risking  their  lives  at  the 
front." 

"What's  going  to  be  done  with  them,  do 
you   know?" 

"The  deserters  will  be  shot,  most  likely, 
and  every  one  of  the  rest  ought  to  be  hung. 
That's  what  would  be  done  with  them  if  I  had 
my   way." 

Marcy's  heart  sank  within  him.  If  the 
corporal  could  have  his  way  what  would  be 
done  with  him  f  was  the  question  that  came 
into  his  mind.  He  had  not  only  given  aid  and 
comfort  to  the  Federals  but  had  served  on  one 
of  their  gunboats  ;  and  how  did  he  know  but 
that  the  commander  of  the  prison  would  order 
him  into  one  of  those  crowded  cells  after  he 
had  taken  the  descriptive  list  of  his  valise,  or, 
in  plain  English,  had  robbed  it  of  everything 


330  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

of  value  ?  While  Marcy  was  thinking  about 
it  the  corporal  pushed  open  a  door  and 
"ushered  him  into  the  i^resence  of  Captain 
Wilkins,  who  sat  tilted  back  in  a  chair,  with 
his  feet  on  the  office  table  and  a  cob  pipe  in 
his  mouth.  Although  he  was  resplendent  in 
a  brand-new  uniform  he  did  not  look  like  a 
soldier,  and  Marcy  afterward  learned  that  he 
wasn't.  He  was  a  Home  Guard,  and  would 
have  been  a  deserter  if  he  had  seen  the  least 
prospect  before  him  of  being  ordered  to  the 
front. 

"  Private  Gray,  sir,"  said  the  corporal,  wav- 
ing his  hand  in  Marcy's  direction. 

His  interview  with  Captain  Wilkins,  of 
whom  he  had  already  learned  to  stand  in  fear, 
was  not  a  long  one,  but  it  did  much  to  satisfy 
Marcy  that  the  man  was  not  as  well  acquainted 
with  his  history  as  he  was  afraid  he  might  be. 
His  first  words,  however,  showed  that  he  knew 
all  about  the  fight  that  had  taken  place  in 
Mrs.  Gray's  door-yard  when  the  boy  was 
captured. 

"  So  you  are  the  chap  who  cost  the  lives  of 
some  of  my  best  men,  are   you?"  said  he, 


IN^   WILLIAMSTON   JAIL.  337 

after  he  had  given  Marcy  a  good  looking  over. 
"Do  you  know  what  I  have  a  notion  to  do 
with  you  ?" 

Marcy  replied  that  he  did  not,  being  careful 
to  address  the  captain  as  "sir,"  for  he  knew 
it  would  be  folly  to  irritate  such  a  man  as  he 
was.  He  expected  to  hear  him  declare  that  he 
would  put  him  into  the  dungeon  and  keep  him^ 
there  on  bread  and  water  as  long  as  he  re- 
mained in  the  jail ;  but  instead  of  that  the 
captain  said  : 

"I  would  like  to  send  you  to  the  field  with- 
out an  hour's  delay,  so  that  the  Yankees  could 
have  a  chance  at  you.  There's  where  such 
cowards  as  you  belong.  Why  didn't  you 
come  in  when  you  knew  you  had  been  con- 
scripted and  save  me  the  trouble  of  sending 
for  you  ? ' ' 

"I  didn't  know  it,  sir,"  replied  Marcy. 

"Well,  it  was  your  business  to  know  that 
every  able-bodied  man  in  the  Confederacy  has 
been  placed  absolutely  under  control  of  our 
President  while  the  war  lasts,"  continued  the 
captain.  "  You  were  mighty  good  to  yourself 
to  stay  at  home  living  on  the  fat  of  the  land, 

22 


338  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

while  your  betters  are  fighting  and  dying  for 
the  flag,  but  I'll  put  you  where  jow  will  see 
service  ;  do  you  hear  ?  How  many  more  men 
are  there  in  that  camp  of  refugees  up  there  ? " 

"About  twenty,  sir,"  answered  Marcy. 

"Twenty  more  cowards  shirking  duty!" 
exclaimed  the  captain,  taking  his  feet  off  the 
table  and  banging  his  fist  upon  it.  "  But  I'll 
have  them  out  of  there  if  it  takes  every  man 
I've  got ;  do  you  hear?  I  say  I'll  have  them 
out  of  that  camp  and  into  the  army,  where 
they  will  be  food  for  powder.  Let  me  see 
your  baggage." 

As  CaiDtain  Wilkins  said  this  he  nodded  to 
the  corporal,  who  seized  Marcy' s  valise  and 
turned  its  contents  upon  the  floor.  There 
were  not  many  things  brought  to  light — only 
an  extra  suit  of  clothes,  two  or  three  handker- 
chiefs, as  many  shirts  and  pairs  of  stockings, 
and  a  pair  of  shoes  ;  but  each  of  these  articles 
was  carefully  examined  by  the  corporal,  who 
went  about  his  work  as  though  he  w^as  used 
to  it,  as  indeed  he  was.  He  had  examined  a 
good  deal  of  luggage  for  the  captain,  who  had 
nothing  to  say  when   he   saw   him    confiscate 


IlSr   WILLIAMSTON   JAIL.  339 

any  article  of  clothing  that  struck  his  fancy, 
or  which  he  thought  he  could  sell  or  trade  to 
his  comrades  of  the  Home  Guards.  Marcy 
caught  his  breath  when  he  saw  the  corporal 
run  his  fingers  into  the  right-hand  pocket  of 
the  vest  in  which  his  mother  had  placed  the 
gold  pieces,  and  felt  much  relieved  when  the 
soldier  did  not  pull  out  anything.  Then  his 
blanket,  which  Marcy  had  rolled  uj)  and  tied 
with  strings  so  that  he  could  sling  it  over  his 
shoulder,  soldier  fashion,  was  shaken  out,  but 
there  was  not  a  thing  in  it  to  reward  the 
corporal's  search.  The  latter  looked  disap- 
pointed and  so  did  Captain  Wilkins,  who  com- 
manded Marcy  to  turn  all  his  pockets  inside 
out.  He  did  so,  but  there  was  nothing  in 
them  but  a  broken  jack-knife  that  was  not 
worth  stealing. 

"  You  must  be  poor  folks  up  your  way," 
said   the   captain.      "Where's   your  scrip?" 

"I  haven't  a  dollar's  worth  of  scrip,  sir," 
said  Marcy  truthfully.  "In  fact  I've  seen 
little  of  it  during  the  war." 

It  never  occurred  to  Captain  Wilkins  to  ask 
if  Marcy  had  seen  any  other  sort  of  money. 


340  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

for  gold  was  sometliing  he  had  not  taken  from 
the  iDockets  of  a  single  conscript.  He  put  his 
feet  on  the  table  again,  touched  a  lighted 
match  to  his  pipe,  and  told  Marcy  that  he 
could  go  back  upstairs.  Glad  to  escape  so 
easily  the  boy  tumbled  his  clothing  into  his 
valise,  gathered  up  his  blanket,  and  went ;  and 
the  sentry  who  stood  in  the  hall  at  the  head  of 
the  stairs  opened  the  door  for  him. 

"What  did  you  have?  What  did  you 
lose?"  were  the  questions  that  arose  on  all 
sides  when  he  entered  the  room  he  had  left 
a  few  minutes  before. 

"Not  a  thing,"  answered  Marcy,  glancing  at 
Charley  Bowen,  who  stood  among  the  prisoners, 
looking  as  innocent  and  unconcerned  as  a  man 
could  who  had  almost  a  hundred  dollars  in 
gold  in  his  pocket.  "And  they  gave  my 
things  a  good   overhauling,  too." 

"  What  did  you  do  with  your  scrip,  any- 
way ?    Put  it  in  your  shoe  ? " 

"I  didn't  have  any,"  said  Marcy.  "  If  I 
had  the  corporal  would  have  found  it  sure,  for 
he  turned  everything  inside  out." 

Marcy  elbowed  his  way  to  the  nearest  win- 


IN  WILLIAMSTON   JAIL.  341 

dow  to  roll  up   his   blanket  and  repack  Ms 
valise,  and  after  a  while  Bowen  came  up. 

"If  it  hadn't  been  for  you  they  would  have 
stolen  me  poor,"  Marcy  found  an  oi)portunity 
to  whisper  to  him.  "They  are  nothing  but 
robbers." 

"What  did  I  tell  you?"  replied  Bowen. 
"  Put  your  hand  into  my  coat-pocket,  and  you 
will  find  it  safe  ;  but  I  warn  you  that  you  will 
lose  it  if  you  don't  watch  out.  There  are' 
some  among  the  prisoners  who  would  steal  it 
in  a  minute  if  they  got  a  good  chance.  What 
do  you  intend  to  do  with  it  anyway?"  he 
added,  after  Marcy  had  transferred  the  gold 
coins  to  his  own  pocket  without  attracting  any- 
body's attention.  "The  first  time  you  try  to 
spend  any  of  it,  someone  will  rob  you." 

"  It  may  come  handy  some  day,"  whispered 
Marcy.  "  Since  you  have  showed  yourself  to 
be  a  true  friend  I  don't  mind  telling  you  that 
I  don't  mean  to  serve  under  the  rebel  flag  a 
day  longer  than   I   am   obliged   to." 

"Are  you  going  to  make  a  break?"  said 
Bowen   eagerly. 

"  I  am,  if  I  see  the  ghost  of  a  show." 


342  SAILOE  JACK,  THE  TKADER. 

"You're  a  boy  after  my  own  heart,  and  if 
you  want  good  company  I  will  go  with  you." 

Nothing  could  have  suited  Marcy  Gray  bet- 
ter. The  fact  that  Bowen  had  travelled  hun- 
dreds of  miles  through  a  country  that  was  in 
full  possession  of  the  enemy,  and  had  even 
come  within  sight  of  the  Union  lines  before  he 
wa.s  captured,  proved  that  he  was  not  only  a 
brave  and  persevering  man,  but  that  he  was 
skilled  in  woodcraft  as  well ;  and  such  a  man 
would  be  an  invaluable  companion  if  they 
could  only  manage  to  escape  at  the  same  time. 
Bowen  said  it  would  be  imj^ossible  for  them  to 
escape  from  the  jail,  for  in  addition  to  the 
sentry,  who  stood  in  the  hall  and  could  look 
through  the  grated  door  into  the  room  and  see 
every  move  that  was  made  among  the  prison- 
ers, the  building  was  surrounded  by  guards 
every  night.  It  would  be  folly  for  them  to 
make  the  attempt  until  they  were  certain  of 
success,  for  no  man  in  the  rebel  army  ever 
deserted   more   than   once. 

"But  whether  we  escape  in  one  month  or 
two  we'll  have  something  to  think  about  and 
live  for,  so  that  our  minds  will  not  be  con- 


IN   WILLIAMSTOlSr   JAIL.  843 

stantly  dwelling  upon  our  misfortunes  ;  and 
that's  a  great  thing  in  a  case  like  this,  I  tell 
you,"  said  Bowen.  "We  must  keep  up  a 
brave  heart  by  thinking  about  pleasant  things, 
or  else  it  will  not  be  long  before  we  shall  be 
moping  like  those  poor  fellows  over  there  in 
the  corner.  They're  all  the  time  worrying,  and 
the  first  they  know  they  will  be  down  sick." 

"I  suppose  that  is  the  right  way  to  do,  but 
it  is  awful  hard  for  a  conscript  to  be  jolly," 
said  Marcy,  who  was  thinking  of  his  mother 
and  of  Jack,  whom  he  might  never  see  again. 

"  I  know  it ;  but  it  is  the  only  way  for  us  to 
do  if  we  want  to  keep  on  our  feet." 

When  five  o'clock  came  and  the  long  table 
which  occupied  the  middle  of  the  room  had 
been  cleared  of  the  men  who  had  been  sitting 
and  lying  upon  it,  and  the  supper  was  brought 
in,  Marcy  Gray  began  to  realize  that  being 
shut  up  in  jail  meant  something.  While 
Bowen  talked  he  had  been  slowly  working  his 
way  through  the  crowd  toward  the  table,  and 
now  Marcy  saw  what  his  object  was  in  doing 
it.  The  supper,  which  consisted  of  bean  soup 
and    corn    bread,    was    brought    in  in    small 


344  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

Avooden  tubs  wliicli  were  placed  upon  the  ta- 
ble, together  with  a  sufficient  number  of  pans 
and  s]poons  to  accommodate  about  half  the 
prisoners  at  once.  No  sooner  had  these  pans 
and  spoons  been  set  on  the  table  than  Bo  wen 
seized  two  of  them  as  quick  as  a  flash,  and 
filled  the  pans  with  soup  Avith  one  hand,  while 
he  passed  Marcy  a  generous  piece  of  corn 
bread   with  the   other. 

"Now  get  over  there  by  the  window  before 
somebody  jostles  you  and  spills  it  all,"  said 
he ;  and  although  Marcy,  acting  upon  the 
suggestion,  succeeded  in  reaching  the  window 
without  losing  his  supper,  it  was  not  owing  to 
any  consideration  that  was  shown  him  by  the 
prisoners,  who  made  a  regular  charge  upon 
the  table,  pushing  and  crowding,  and  acting 
altogether  like  men  who  were  more  than  half 
famished.  Marcy  said,  in  a  tone  of  disgust, 
that  they  reminded  him   of  a  lot  of  pigs. 

"I  don't  know's  I  blame  them,"  said 
Bowen,  swallowing  a  spoonful  of  his  soup 
with  the  remark  that  it  was  somewhat  better 
than  common.  "  You  will  soon  learn  to  push 
and  shove  with  the  rest." 


IN   WILLI AMSTON   JAIL.  345 

*' I  hope  not,"  replied  Marcy. 

"Then  you'll  have  to  eat  out  of  a  dirty 
dish;  that's  all." 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  someone  will 
have  to  use  this  pan  and  spoon  after  I  get 
through  with  them?" 

"That's  just  what  I  mean.  You  see  there 
are  not  more  than  half  enough  to  go  around." 

"  Well,  why  don't  they  w^ash  them  ? " 

"  Too  much  trouble,  I  suppose.  And 
besides,  anything  is  good  enough  for  a  con- 
script." 

Marcy  did  not  in  the  least  enjoy  his  supper. 
The  soup  was  so  badly  smoked  that  it  was  not 
fit  to  eat,  and  the  corn  bread  was  not  more 
than  half  baked.  More  than  that,  one  of  the 
prisoners  urged  him  to  make  haste  and  "get 
away  with  that  soup,"  for  he  wanted  the  pan 
as  soon  as  he  conld  have  it. 

"Don't  mind  him,"  said  Bowen.  "Take 
your  time.  That's  the  way  they  will  all  serve 
you  when  you  get  left." 

Up  to  this  time  Marcy  Gray  had  not  been 
troubled  very  much  with  the  pangs  of  home- 
sickness.    One  seldom  is  when  the  bright  sun 


346  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

is  shining  and  lie  can  see  what  is  going  on 
around  him.  It  is  when  the  quiet  of  night 
comes  and  everybody  else  is  asleep  that  the 
young  soldier  thinks  of  home  and  the  friends 
he  has  left  behind  him.  It  was  so  with  Marcy 
Gray  at  any  rate.  When  the  supper  dishes 
had  been  removed,  and  somebody  had  touched 
a  match  to  a  couple  of  sputtering  candle« 
which  threw  out  just  light  enough  to  show 
how  desolate  and  cheerless  the  big  room  really 
was,  and  the  prisoners  began  arranging  their 
blankets  and  quilts,  and  the  joking  and  laugh- 
ing ceased,  then  it  was  that  Marcy' s  fortitude 
was  put  to  the  test.  He  thought  of  his 
mother,  of  Jack,  and  Ben  Hawkins,  who  had 
proved  so  stanch  a  friend  to  him,  and  told 
himself  that  he  would  never  see  them  again. 
He  had  heard  that  nostalgia  (that  is  the  name 
the  doctors  give  to  homesickness)  killed  people 
sometimes,  and  he  was  sure  it  would  kill  him 
before  the  month  was  ended. 

"What  are  you  doing  at  that  window?" 
demanded  Bowen,  breaking  in  upon  his 
revery. 

"  I  am  watching  the  sentry  in  the  yard  be- 


IN   WILLIAMSTON   JAIL.  347 

low,"  answered  Marcy.  "  I  wisli  I  was  in  liis 
place.  It  wouldn'  t  take  me  long  to  slip  away  in 
the  darkness  and  draw  a  bee-line  for  home." 

"  Well,  you  Just  let  that  sentry  alone  and 
come  here  and  lie  down,"  said  Bo  wen. 

"  What's  the  use  ?     I  can't  go  to  sleep." 

"  You  can  and  you  must.  Sleej)  and  eat  all 
you  can,  hold  your  thoughts  under  control, 
and  so  keep  up  your  strength.  Come  here 
and  lie  down." 

Marcy  knew  that  Bo  wen's  advice  was  good, 
but  it  was  hard  to  follow  it.  Reluctantly  he 
stretched  himself  upon  the  man's  blanket, — 
there  was  no  room  on  the  floor  for  him  to 
spread  his  own, — pulled  his  valise  under  his 
head  for  a  pillow,  and  listened  while  Bowen 
told  of  some  exciting  and  amusing  incidents 
that  had  fallen  under  his  observation  while  he 
was  trying  to  reach  the  Union  lines.  On 
three  occasions,  he  said,  he  had  acted  as  guide 
to  small  parties  of  escaped  Federals  who  were 
slowly  working  their  Avay  out  of  Dixie,  but 
somehow  he  never  could  induce  them  to  re- 
main very  long  in    his  company. 

"They  had  the  impudence  to  tell  me  that  I 


348  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

didn't  know  anything  about  the  geography 
of  my  own  State,"  said  Bowen  in  an  injured 
tone. 

"Tliat's  what  I  think  myself,"  replied 
Marcy.  "Whatever  put  it  into  your  head  to 
come  away  up  here  to  North  Carolina,  when  you 
might  liave  taken  a  short  cut  to  the  coast  ?  " 

"There  you  go  just  like  the  rest  of  them," 
said  Bowen.  "It  shows  how  much  you  know 
of  the  situation  down  South.  The  Confederacy 
is  like  an  empty  egg-shell.  There's  nothing 
on  the  inside — no  soldiers  to  be  afraid  of — 
nothing  but  niggers,  who  are  only  too  glad  to 
feed  and  shelter  a  Union  man.  You're  safe 
while  you  stay  on  the  inside,  but  the  minute 
you  try  to  get  out  is  when  the  danger  begins, 
for  there's  the  shell  in  the  shape  of  the  armies 
by  which  the  Confederacy  is  surrounded. 
There  was  no  need  of  my  being  captured,  and 
that's  what  provokes  me.  When  I  caught 
sight  of  the  Union  flag  in  Plymouth  I  thought 
I  was  safe  and  so,  instead  of  keeping  to  the 
woods,  I  came  out  and  followed  the  road  ;  and 
here  I  am.  If  I  had  held  to  the  course  that 
I  followed  all  through  my  long  journey,  I'd 


IN    WILLIAMSTON   JAIL.  349 


have  been  among  tlie  boys  in  blue  now  instead 
of  being  shut  up  in  jail." 

"  Did  old  Wilkins  conscript  you  ?  " 

"The  minute  I  struck  the  jail.  He  took 
my  descriptive  list,  robbed  me  of  the  little 
money  I  had  left,  and  told  me  I  could  make 
up  my  mind  to  fight  until  the  Confederates 
gained   their  independence." 

"You'll  die  of  old  age  before  that  day 
comes,"  said  Marcy. 

"That's  what  I  think,  and  it's  what  more 
than  half  the  people  down  South  think. 
There  are  men  and  boys  in  the  Confederate 
army  who  are  as  strong  for  the  Union  as  Abe 
Lincoln  is  ;  but  if  they  said  so,  or  if  they 
shirked  their  duty,  they  would  be  shot  before 
they  saw  another  sun  rise.  Now,  if  they  put 
you  and  me  on  guard  duty  at  one  of  their 
prison  pens  we'll  not  stay  there  any  longer 
than   we  feel  like   it." 

Bowen  continued  to  whisper  in  this  en- 
couraging strain  until  long  after  the  rest  of 
the  prisoners  were  wrapped  in  slumber  ;  and 
finally  Marcy' s  eyes  grew  heavy  and  he  feU 
asleep  himself. 


CHAPTER  XIY. 

THE  PKISON    PEN. 

WHEN  Marcy  Gray  awoke  the  next 
morning  he  made  the  mental  resolu- 
tion that  from  that  time  forward,  no  matter 
what  happened  or  how  homesick  he  might  be, 
he  would  follow  Bo  wen's  advice  and  example 
to  the  letter,  eat  and  sleep  all  he  could  and 
keep  up  a  brave  heart,  so  as  to  be  in  readiness 
to  improve  the  first  opportunity  for  escape 
that  i)resented  itself.  Fortunately  some 
things  occurred  that  made  it  comparatively 
easy  for  him  to  hold  to  his  resolve  for  a  few 
days  at  least.  After  some  more  smoked  bean 
soup  and  half-baked  corn  bread  had  been 
served  for  breakfast  (and  this  time  Marcy  did 
just  what  Bo  wen  said  he  would,  and  pushed 
and  crowded  with  the  rest  in  order  to  get  a 
clean  pan  to  eat  from),  the  grated  door  that 
led  into  the  hall  was  thrown  open  and  the 
commander  of    the  prison   appeared    on   the 

350 


THE  PRISON   PEN.  351 

threshold  with  Captain  Fletcher  at  his  side. 
The  latter  held  in  his  hand  the  book  in  which 
Marcy  had  seen  his  name  and  descriptive  list 
entered  the  day  before.  A  hnsh  of  expect- 
ancy fell  upon  the  prisoners,  who  surged 
toward  the  door  in  a  body.  Something  out  of 
the  ordinary  was  about  to  happen,  and  they 
were  impatient  to   know  what  it  was. 

"Get  back  there!"  shouted  Captain  Wil- 
kins.  "You  seem  to  be  in  a  mighty  hurry  to 
leave  these  good  quarters,  but  some  of  you 
will  wish  yourselves  back  here  before  many 
days  have  passed  over  your  heads." 

These  words  had  a  depressing  effect  upon 
some  of  the  prisoners,  but  they  were  very 
cheering  to  Marcy  Gray  and  his  friend  Bowen. 
The  captain  made  it  plain  that  they  were  to  be 
sent  off  in  some  direction,  and  anything  Avas 
better  than  being  shut  up  in  that  gloomy  jail. 

"  As  fast  as  your  names  are  called  pick  up 
your  plunder  and  go  down  into  the  yard  and 
fall  in  for  a  march  of  seventy-five  miles,"  con- 
tinued the  captain.  "That  will  be  your  first 
taste  of  a  soldier's  life." 

"Seventy-five     miles,"      repeated      Marcy. 


352  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

"We  must  be  going  to  Raleigh,  and  from 
there  it  is  about  a  hundred  miles  by  rail  to 
Salisbury.  By  gracious,  Bowen,  if  they  send 
us  there  I'll  not  be  much  over  two  hundred 
miles  from  home." 

"I  hope  they'll  not  separate  us,"  was  the 
reply.     "That's  what  I  am  afraid  of  now." 

Captain  Fletcher  called  off  the  names  as 
they  were  written  in  his  book,  and  the 
prisoners  one  after  another  disappeared  down 
the  stairs.  Some  responded  with  a  cheerful 
"  here,"  and  walked  as  briskly  as  though  they 
were  going  home  instead  of  into  the  army, 
while  others  answered  in  scarcely  audible 
tones  and  moved  with  slow  and  reluctant 
steps.  When  Bowen' s  name  was  called  he 
lingered  long  enough  to  give  Marcy's  hand  a 
friendly  squeeze,  and  when  he  passed  through 
the  door  out  of  sight  he  seemed  to  have  taken 
all  the  boy's  courage  with  him  ;  but  when  his 
own  name  was  called  a  few  minutes  later, 
Marcy  was  himself  again.  He  went  into  the 
jail  yard  and  fell  into  the  line  that  was  being 
formed  there  under  command  of  an  officer  he 
had  not  seen  before.     On  the  opposite  side  of 


THE  PRISON   PEN.  353 

tlie  yard  was  a  company  of  soldiers,  veterans 
on  the  face  of  them,  who  were  standing  at 
"parade  rest,"  and  Marcy  straightway  con- 
chided  that  they  were  the  men  who  were  to 
guard  the  prisoners  during  the  march.  Marcy 
hoped  they  would  continue  to  act  in  that 
capacity  as  long  as  an  escort  was  needed.  He 
wasn't  afraid  of  veterans,  but  he  did  not  want 
any  Home  Guards  put  over  him. 

"What  have  you  got  in  your  grip?" 
inquired  the  officer,  as  Marcy  fell  into  his 
place  in  line. 

"Clothing,  sir,"  answered  the  boy,  holding 
out  the  valise  as  if  he  thought  the  officer 
wished   to   inspect  it. 

"I  am  willing  to  take  your  word  for  it," 
said  the  latter,  who  no  doubt  knew  that  Cap- 
tain Wilkins  had  given  the  valise  a  thorough 
examination.  "I  was  going  to  suggest  that 
you  had  better  wrap  its  contents  in  your 
blanket  and  leave  the  grip  behind.  It  will 
only  be  in  your  way,  and  you  don't  want  too 
much   luggage   on   the   march." 

Marcy  thought  the  suggestion  a  good  one, 
and  with  the  officer's  permission  he  fell  out 

23 


354  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

long  enough  to  act  upon  it.  By  the  time  he 
took  his  place  in  line  again  the  prisoners  who 
were  to  be  sent  away  were  all  assembled  in  the 
yard,  and  the  commander  and  Captain  Fletcher 
had  come  out  of  the  jail.  The  few  unfortu- 
nates who  remained  behind  were  suspected  of 
being  deserters,  and  they  were  to  be  detained 
until  their  record  could  j^e  investigated.  Cap- 
tain Fletcher  handed  his  book  to  the  strange 
oflScer,  who  proceeded  to  call  the  roll  a  second 
time,  for  he  had  to  receipt  for  the  men  com- 
mitted to  his  care  as  if  they  had  been  so  many 
bags  of  corn.  When  this  had  been  done  the 
prisoners  were  marched  through  the  gate  into 
one  of  Williamston's  principal  streets,  the 
guards  with  loaded  muskets  on  their  shoulders 
fell  in  on  both  sides  of  them,  and  their  weary 
journey,  which  was  to  end  at  a  point  more  than 
three  hundred  miles  away,  was  fairly  begun. 

They  were  nearly  three  weeks  on  the  road, 
and  during  that  time  not  an  incident  happened 
that  was  worthy  of  record.  Marcy  afterward 
said  that  all  he  could  remember  was  that  he 
was  hungry  all  the  time,  and  too  tired  and 
sleepy  to  think  of  escape,  even  if  it  had  been 


THE  PRISON   PEN.  355 

safe  to  attempt  it.  Their  veteran  guards,  wlio 
accompanied  tliem  no  fartLer  than  Raleigh, 
told  them  that  from  that  point  they  would 
travel  by  rail,  and  so  they  did  as  far  as  the 
rails  went ;  but  miles  of  the  road-bed  had  to 
be  traversed  on  foot  because  the  road  itself 
had  been  torn  up  by  raiding  parties  of  Union 
cavalry,  who,  after  heating  the  rails  red-hot, 
had  wrapped  them  around  trees  or  twisted 
them  into  such  fantastic  shapes  that  nothing 
but  a  rolling-mill  could  have  straightened 
them  out  again. 

At  Raleigh  a  company  of  militia  took 
charge  of  the  conscripts  (that  was  what  every- 
one called  them  and  what  they  called  them- 
selves now),  and  then  their  sufferings  began. 
Their  new  guards  were  absolutely  without 
feeling.  The  commanding  officer  either  could 
not  or  would  not  keep  them  supplied  with 
food,  nor  would  he  permit  them  to  leave  the 
ranks  long  enough  to  get  a  drink  of  water. 
Marcy,  who  found  it  hard  to  keep  up  under 
such  circumstances,  wanted  to  try  what  power 
there  might  be  in  one  of  his  gold  pieces,  but 
Bowen  would  not  listen  to  it. 


356  SAILOIJ  JACK,  THE   TEADER. 

"Not  for  the  world  would  I  have  these  ruf- 
fians know  that  you  have  good  money  in  your 
pocket,"  said  he  earnestly.  "They  would 
make  some  excuse  to  shoot  you  in  order  to  get 
it.  Hold  fast  to  every  dollar  of  it,  for  you  will 
see  the  time  when  you  will  need  it  worse  than 
you  think  you  do  now." 

It  was  not  until  they  arrived  within  a  few 
miles  of  their  destination  that  Marcy  and  his 
companions  learned  where  they  were  going, 
and  what  they  were  expected  to  do  when  they 
got  there.  Some  of  the  militia  who  were 
doing  guard  duty  at  the  Millen  prison  pen  had 
been  ordered  to  Savannah,  and  the  conscripts 
were  to  take  their  places  ;  but  beyond  the  fact 
that  Millen  was  situated  someAvhere  in  the 
eastern  part  of  Georgia,  a  few  miles  south  of 
Waynesborough,  their  ignorant  guards  could 
not  tell  them  a  thing  about  it. 

"It  must  be  pretty  close  to  the  coast,  and 
that's  the  way  we'll  go  when  we  get  ready  to 
make  a  break,"  said  Marcy. 

"  And  what  would  we  do  if  we  succeeded  in 
reaching  the  coast?"  demanded  Bowen.  "It 
would  be  the  worst  move  we  could  make,  for 


THE   PRISON   PEN.  357 

it  would  take  us  right  into  danger.  There  are 
no  Union  war  ships  stationed  off  the  Georgia 
coast,  and  even  if  there  were,  how  could  we 
get  out  to  them  ?  No,  sir.  We'll  go  the  other 
way  and  strike  for  the  Mississippi." 

"  And  cross  three  States  ?  "  exclaimed  Marcy, 
astounded  at  the  proposition.  "  Why,  it  must 
be  four  or  five  hundred  miles  in  a  straight 
line." 

"No  matter  if  it's  a  thousand,"  said  Bovven 
obstinately.  "  We'  11  be  safe  if  we  go  that  way, 
and  we'll  be  captured  and  shot  if  we  go  the 
other.  If  we  can  only  pass  Macon  I'll  be 
among  friends." 

"And  if  we  can  strike  the  Mississippi  about 
Baton  Rouge  /would  be  among  friends,"  said 
Marcy.  "But  across  three  States  that  are  no 
doubt  infested  with  Home  Guards  and  blood- 
hounds !     Bo  wen,  you're  crazy." 

"Not  so  crazy  as  you  will  show  yourself  to 
be  if  you  try  to  reach  the  coast,"  was  the  reply. 
"But  we  haven't  started  yet,  and  you  will 
have  plenty  of  time  to  think  it  over  and  decide 
if  you  will  go  with  me  or  strike  out  by  your- 
self." 


358  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

This  conversation  had  a  disheartening  effect 
upon  Marcy,  who  knew  that  if  his  clear-headed 
companion  left  him  to  take  care  of  himself, 
his  chances  for  seeing  home  and  friends  again 
were  very  slim  indeed.  While  he  was  think- 
ing about  it,  and  trying  to  grasp  the  full  mean- 
ing of  the  Avords  "  across  three  States  infested 
with  Home  Guards  and  bloodhounds,"  the 
train  stopped  at  Millen  Junction  and  the  con- 
scripts were  ordered  to  disembark.  As  fast  as 
they  left  the  cars  they  were  drawn  up  in  line 
near  the  depot,  which  was  afterward  burned 
by  Sherman's  cavalry,  and  the  roll  was  called. 
After  that  they  were  formally  turned  over  to 
the  commander  of  the  prison,  who  was  there  to 
receive  them,  and  marched  out  to  the  stockade. 
Marcy  had  just  time  to  note  that  it  was  a 
gloomy  looking  place  and  that  a  deep  silence 
brooded  over  it,  before  he  was  marched  into 
the  fort,  whose  cannon  commanded  the  prison 
at  all  points.  There  they  were  divided  into 
messes  and  assigned  to  quarters,  with  the  un- 
derstanding that  they  were  to  go  on  duty  the 
next  morning  at  guard-mount.  The  barracks 
were  crowded  when  Marcy  first  went  into  them, 


THE   PRISON    PEN.  359 

but  some  of  the  militia  were  ordered  to  Sa- 
vannah that  afternoon,  and  when  they  were 
gone  he  and  Bowen  were  able  to  find  a  bunk. 
They  had  managed  to  be  put  into  the  same 
mess,  and  that  was  something  to  be  thankful 
for. 

So  far  the  conscripts  had  nothing  to  complain 
of.  Their  supper  was  abundant  and  passably 
well  cooked,  and  it  was  delightful  to  know 
that  they  could  get  a  drink  of  water  when 
they  wanted  it,  without  asking  permission  of 
some  petty  tyrant  who  was  quite  as  likely  to 
refuse  as  he  was  to  grant  the  request.  But 
Marcy  looked  forward  with  some  misgivings 
to  guard-mount  the  next  morning.  The  idea 
of  putting  raw  recruits  through  that  compli- 
cated ceremony  was  a  novel  one  to  him,  and 
altliough  he  had  no  fears  for  himself,  he  was 
afraid  that  the  awkwardness  of  some  of  his 
companions  would  bring  upon  them  the  wrath 
of  the  adjutant  ;  that  is,  if  the  latter  was  at 
all  strict,  and  liked  to  see  things  done  in  mili- 
tary form.  Before  he  went  to  his  bunk,  how- 
ever, he  found  that  he  had  little  to  fear  on  that 
score.     A  sergeant  came  into  the  barracks  with 


360  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

a  paper  in  liis  hand,  and  began  Avarning  the  re. 
cruits  for  guard  duty  the  next  day,  ordering 
them  to  fall  in  line  in  front  of  him  as  fast  as 
their  names  were  called.  Marcy's  was  one  of 
the  first  on  the  list,  and  when  it  was  read  off 
he  stepped  promptly  to  his  place,  dressed  to 
the  right,  and  came  to  a  front.  The  sergeant, 
who  knew  a  well-drilled  man  when  he  saw  him, 
was  surprised.  He  looked  curiously  at  Marcy 
for  a  moment,  and  then  went  on  calling  off  the 
names  of  the  guard. 

"I'll  bet  I  made  a  mistake  in  showing  off 
that  way,"  thought  Marcy.  "As  soon  as  this 
company  is  organized  they  Avill  take  me  out 
of  the  ranks  and  make  me  a  corporal  or  some- 
thing, and  that  would  be  a  misfortune,  for  I 
shouldn't  have  half  the  chance  to  talk  to 
Bo  wen   that  I've  got  now." 

There  were  forty  recruits  warned  for  duty, 
and  when  they  were  all  standing  before  him 
the  sergeant  said  that  when  they  heard  the 
bugle  sound  the  adjutant's  call  at  nine  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  they  would  be  expected  to 
assemble  on  the  parade  ground,  and  wlien 
they  got  there    they   would    be   armed    and 


THE  PRISON   PEN.  361 

told  what  to  do.  Then,  having  performed 
his  duty,  the  sergeant  faced  them  to  the 
right  and  broke  ranks,  at  the  same  time 
looking  hard  at  Marcy  and  jerking  his  head 
over  his  shoulder  toward  tlie  door.  Marcy 
followed  him  when  he  left  the  barracks,  and 
when  they  were  out  of  hearing  of  everybody 
the  sergeant  said  : 

"Where   have  you   been   drilled?" 

"At  the  Barrington  Military  Academy.  I 
was  there  almost  four  years.  But  don't  say 
anything  about  it,  will   you?" 

"You're  sure  you're  not  a  deserter  ?  "  con- 
tinued  the  sergeant. 

"No!"  gasped  Marcy.  "I  am  a  refugee. 
I  haven't  even  been  conscripted.  I  was 
arrested  in  my  mother's  presence  and  shoved 
into  Williamston  jail ;  and  if  I  were  a  de- 
serter, don't  you  suppose  Captain  Wilkins 
would  have  known  it  ?  What  put  that  into 
your  head  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  saw  you  had  been  drilled  somewhere, 
and  I  didn't  know  but  it  was  in  the  army.  If 
that  was  the  case  you  would  be  in  a  bad  row 
of  stumps  among  these  Home  Guards.     If  one 


362  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

of  tliem  could  prove  that  you  are  a  deserter  he 
would  get  a  thirty  days'  furlough." 

"And  what  would  be  done  with  me  ? " 

"  I  am  sure  I  don't  know,  but  nobody  would 
ever  see  you  again  after  General  Winder  got 
his  hands  on  you." 

"Who  is  General  Winder?"  inquired 
Marcy. 

"  He  is  the  officer  who  has  charge  of  all  the 
Southern  prisons,  and  it  is  owing  to  him  that 
the  Yanks  are  starving  and  dj^ing  by  scores 
right  here  in  this  stockade,"  said  the  ser- 
geant bitterly. 

"  Starving  and  dying  by  scores  !  "  ejaculated 
Marcy,  who  had  never  heard  of  such  a  thing 
before. 

"That's  what  I  said.  There  were  twenty- 
three  bodies  brought  through  that  gate  yes- 
terday, and   eighteen   this   morning." 

"Why,  that's  brutal!  it's  downright 
heathenish  !  "  exclaimed   Marcy. 

"  Well,  we  can't  give  them  what  we  haven't 
got,  can  we?"  demanded  the  sergeant. 
"Winder  could  send  us  grub  if  he  wanted 
to ^" 


THE   PRISON  PEN.  363 

"I  know  he  could,"  interrupted  Marcy. 
"  There's  x^lenty  of  it  along  the  road  between 
here  and  Raleigh.     I  saw  it." 

"  But  as  long  as  he  doesn't  see  fit  to  forward 
it  we  can't  issue  it  to  the  prisoners,"  added 
the  sergeant.  "You  don't  want  some  Home 
Guard  to  report  to  him  that  you  are  a  de- 
serter, do  you?" 

"  I  should  say  not,"  exclaimed  Marcy.  "  If 
that's  the  sort  of  a  brute  he  is,  I  would  stand 
no  show  at  all  with  him.  But  no  one  can 
prove  that  I  have  ever  been  in  the  army 
before." 

"They  might  put  you  to  some  trouble  to 
prove  that  you  haven't,  and  my  object  in 
bringing  you  out  here  was  to  warn  you  that 
you'd  better  not  throw  on  any  military  airs 
while  you   stay  in   this   camp." 

"I  am  very  grateful  to  you,"  replied 
Marcy,  who  did  not  expect  to  find  a  sym- 
pathizing friend  in  a  rebel  non-commissioned 
officer.     ' '  You  are  not  a  Home  Guard  ? ' ' 

"Not  much.  I  was  one  of  the  first  men  in 
our  county  to  volunteer,  but  I  couldn'  t  stand 
hard  campaigning,  and  so  I  asked  to  be  put 


364  SAILOK  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

on  light  duty,  and  I  had  inJEluence  enough  to 
carry  my  point.  But  I  would  have  stayed  in 
the  army  till  I  died  if  I  had  dreamed  that  I 
would  be  sent  to  help  guard  a  slaughter- 
house; for  that  is  just  what  this  stockade  is. 
The  commander  is  nothing  but  a  Home  Guard, 
but  he  hates  conscripts  as  bad  as  he  does 
Yankees,  and  you  want  to  watch  out  and  do 
nothing   to   incur  his   displeasure." 

"I  don't  know  how  to  thank  you "  be- 
gan Marcy. 

"That's  all  right.  I  knew  as  soon  as  I 
looked  at  you  that  you  are  as  much  out  of 
place  here  as  I  am,  and  I  don't  want  to  see 
you  get  into  trouble.  Of  course  you  won't  re- 
peat what  I  have  said  to  you." 

"Not  by  a  long  shot.  You  have  done  me 
too  great  a  favor." 

The  two  separated,  and  Marcy  went  into  the 
barracks  and  sought  his  bunk,  feeling  as  if  he 
were  in  some  way  to  blame  for  the  sufferings 
of  the  Union  soldiers  who  were  confined  within 
the  stockade.  That  they  should  be  allowed  to 
perish  for  want  of  food,  when  there  was  an 
abundance  of  it  scattered  alon.2:  the  line  of  the 


THE  PRISON   PEN.  365 

railroad  Within  easy  reacli  of  the  prison, 
seemed  so  terrible  to  Marcy  that  he  could  not 
dismiss  it  from  his  mind  so  that  he  could  go 
to  sleep.  He  did  not  then  know  that  the  Con- 
federate commissary  was  the  worst  managed 
branch  of  the  army,  and  that  General  Bragg' s 
men  had  been  on  short  rations  while  in  Cor- 
inth there  was  a  pile  of  hard  tack  as  long  and 
high  as  the  railroad  depot  that  was  going  to 
waste.  Our  starving  boys  in  Libby  prison 
could  look  through  the  grated  windows  upon 
the  fertile  fields  of  Manchester,  "  waving  with 
grain  and  alive  with  flocks  and  herds,"  and 
General  Lee  wrote  that  there  were  supplies 
enough  in  the  country,  and  if  the  proper 
means  were  taken  to  procure  them  there  would 
not  be  so  many  desertions  from  his  army. 
Every  Union  soldier  who  died  for  want  of  food 
in  Southern  prison  pens  was  deliberately  mur- 
dered, and  the  Richmond  papers  declared 
that  General  Winder  was  to  blame  for  it.  If 
the  latter  had  not  been  summoned  by  death  to 
answer  before  a  higher  tribunal,  there  is  no 
doubt  but  that  he  would  have  been  hanged  by 
sentence  of  court  martial  as  Captain  Wirz  was. 


366  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

Marcy  Gray  scarcely  closed  his  eyes  in 
slumber  that  night,  and  when  he  did,  his 
sleep  was  disturbed  by  horrible  dreams  in 
which  starving  prisoners  and  unfeeling  Con- 
federate officers  bore  prominent  parts.  He 
arose  from  his  bunk  as  weary  and  dispirited 
as  he  was  when  he  got  into  it,  breakfasted  on 
a  cup  of  sweet  potato  coffee  and  a  small  piece 
of  corn  bread,  and  when  the  adjutant's  call 
sounded  was  one  of  the  first  to  appear  on  the 
parade  ground  ;  but  he  did  not  take  as  much 
pains  to  fall  in  like  a  soldier  as  he  did  the  day 
before.  On  the  contrary  he  seemed  to  be  the 
greenest  one  among  the  conscripts,  for  Avlien 
he  was  commanded  to  "  dress  up  a  little  on  the 
right  centre"  he  did  not  move  until  the  ad- 
jutant shook  his  sword  at  him  and  asked  if 
he  were  hard  of  hearing. 

In  only  one  particular  did  this  guard-mount 
resemble  those  in  which  Marcy  had  often  taken 
part  at  the  Barrington  Academy.  The  guard, 
which  was  composed  of  an  equal  number  of 
Home  Guards  and  conscripts,  was  divided  into 
two  platoons  with  an  officer  of  the  guard  in 
command  of  each,  and  an  officer  of  the  day  in 


THE  PRISOlSr   PEN.  367 

command  of  the  Avliole,  and  there  all  attempts 
to  follow  the  tactics  ceased  except  when  the 
adjutant  saluted  the  new  officer  of  the  day 
and  reported,  "Sir,  the  guard  is  formed." 
There  was  no  band  to  sound  off  and  no  march- 
ing in  review.  Instead  of  that  the  officer  of 
the  day  said  to  one  of  his  lieutenants,  "Go 
ahead,  Billy,  and  fill  up  the  boxes,"  and  in 
obedience  to  the  order,  the  same  sergeant  who 
had  warned  the  conscripts  for  duty  the  night 
before  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  the 
first  platoon,  to  which  Marcy  belonged,  and 
marched  them  to  the  commander's  headquar- 
ters, where  they  were  supplied  Avith  old- 
fashioned  muskets  and  cartridge-boxes. 

"Give  me  that  gun  !  "  shouted  the  sergeant, 
who  was  out  of  all  patience  when  he  saw  that 
some  of  the  conscripts  held  their  pieces  at  trail 
arms,  and  that  others  placed  them  on  their 
shoulders  as  they  might  have  done  if  they  had 
been  going  to  hunt  squirrels  in  the  woods. 
"Now  watch  me.  This  is  shoulder  arms. 
Put  your  guns  that  way,  all  of  you,  and  keep 
them  there." 

So  saying  he  marched  the  platoon  away  to 


3o8  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

relieve  the  sentries  on  post.  Marcy  was  No,  6, 
and  this  brought  him  to  a  station  about  the 
middle  of  the  eastern  side  of  the  stockade. 
When  his  number  was  called  he  followed 
the  sergeant  up  a  ladder  and  into  a  box  from 
which  a  grizzly  Home  Guard  had  been  keeping 
watch  during  the  morning  hours.  The  latter, 
instead  of  bringing  his  musket  to  arms  port, 
as  he  ought  to  have  done  when  passing  his 
orders,  dropped  the  butt  of  it  to  the  floor  and 
rested  his  chin  on  his  hands,  Avhicli  he  clasped 
over  the  muzzle. 

"There  aint  nothing  much  to  do  but  jest 
loaf  here  and  keep  an  eye  on  them  abolition- 
ists," said  he,  Jerking  his  head  toward  the 
stockade.  "Do  you  see  that  dead-line  down 
there  ?  Well,  if  you  see  one  of  'em  trying  to 
get  over  or  under  it  shoot  him  down  ;  and 
don't  stop  to  ask  him  no  questions,  neither. 
I'd  like  mighty  well  to  get  a  chance  to  do  it, 
kase  I  want  thirty  days  home.  I  reckon  that's 
all,  aint  it,  sard  ?" 

The  sergeant  said  he  reckoned  it  Avas,  and 
when  the  two  went  down  the  ladder  Marcy 
stepped  to  the  side  of  his  box  and  took  his  first 


THE  PRISON   PEN".  369 

view  of  the  inside  of  a  Southern  prison  pen. 
He  had  seen  a  picture  of  Camp  Douglas  in  an 
illustrated  paper  which  Captain  Burrows  gave 
him  one  day  when  he  was  in  Plymouth,  and 
had  taken  note  that  the  Confederate  prisoners 
there  confined  were  provided  with  comfortable 
quarters,  into  which  they  could  retreat  in 
stormy  weather,  and  where  they  could  find 
shade  when  the  sun  grew  too  hot  for  them  ; 
but  there  was  nothing  of  the  kind  inside  this 
stockade.  There  was  no  shelter  from  sun  or 
rain  except  such  as  the  prisoners  had  been  able 
to  provide  for  themselves.  There  were  multi- 
tudes of  little  tents  made  of  blankets,  which 
were  hardly  high  enough  for  a  man  to  crawl 
into,  and  scattered  among  them  were  mounds 
of  earth  that  looked  so  much  like  graves  that 
Marcy  was  startled  when  he  saw  a  ragged, 
emaciated  apparition,  Avhich  had  once  been  an 
able-bodied  Union  soldier,  slowly  emerge  from 
one  of  them  and  throw  himself  down  upon  the 
ground  as  if  he  didn't  care  whether  he  ever  got 
up  again  or  not.  The  stockade  was  crowded 
with  just  such  pitiful  objects,  who  dragged 
their  skeleton   forms    Avearily  over    the  sun- 

24 


370  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

baked  eartli,  or  lay  as  motionless  as  dead  men 
under  the  shelter  of  their  little  tents.  It  was 
a  spectacle  to  which  no  language  could  do 
justice,  and  Marcy  turned  from  it  sick  at  heart 
to  make  an  examination  of  the  stockade  itself. 
It  was  built  of  pine  logs  set  upright  in  the 
ground  and  scored  on  each  side  so  that  they 
would  stand  closely  together,  and  they  were 
held  in  i3lace  by  heavy  planks  which  were 
spiked  across  them  on  the  outside  near  the  top. 
Built  upon  little  platforms,  located  at  regular 
intervals  around  the  top  of  the  stockade,  were 
sentry  boxes  like  the  one  Marcy  now  occupied, 
to  which  access  was  gained  by  ladders  leading 
from  the  ground  outside.  On  the  inside  of 
the  stockade,  about  fifteen  feet  from  it  and 
running  parallel  to  it  all  the  way  around,  was 
a  railing  three  feet  high  made  by  nailing  strips 
of  boards  to  j)osts  that  had  been  firmly  set  in 
the  ground.  It  was  an  innocent  looking  thing, 
but  it  had  sent  into  eternity  more  than  one 
brave  man  who  had  incautiously  approached 
it.     It   was   the   dead-line. 

"  But  it  will  never  be  the  death  of  anybody 
while  I  am  on  post,"  thought  Marcy,  wonder- 


THE  PRISON  PEisr.  371 

ing  how  any  man  could  want  a  furlough  bad 
enough  to  shoot  a  fellow  being  down  in  cold 
blood.  "I  never  could  look  my  mother  or 
Jack  in  the  face  if  I  should  do  a  deed  like 
that,  and  I'd  never  have  a  good  night's  rest. 
Heaven  will  never  smile  upon  a  cause  upheld 
by  men  who  are  as  cruel  as  these  rebels  are. 
They  ought   to  be  whipped." 

Long  before  the  time  arrived  for  him  to  be 
relieved  Marcy  became  so  affected  by  the  sight 
of  the  misery  and  suffering  he  had  no  power 
to  alleviate  that  he  wanted  to  drop  his 
musket  and  take  to  his  heels  ;  and  he  would 
have  welcomed  a  cyclone  or  an  earthquake,  or 
any  other  convulsion  of  nature,  that  would 
have  shut  it  out  from  his  view  forever.  On 
several  occasions  some  of  the  thirsty  wretches 
approached  within  a  few  feet  of  the  dead- 
line, with  battered,  smoke-begrimed  cups  or 
pieces  of  bent  tin  in  their  hands,  to  drink 
from  the  sluggish  stream  that  flowed  through 
the  pen — for  the  water  was  clearer  there 
than  it  was  anywhere  else — and  then  it  was 
that  the  fiendish  nature  of  the  sentry  in  the 
next    box   on    the    right  showed    itself.     As 


372  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

often  as  a  prisoner  drew  near  to  the  stream 
with  a  dish  in  his  hand,  this  man  would  cock 
his  musket,  bring  it  to  a  ready,  and  crane  his 
long  neck  eagerly  forward,  as  if  he  hoped  that 
the  soldier  might  forget  himself  and  approach 
close  enougli  to  the  fatal  line  to  give  him  an 
excuse  for  shooting.  Once  or  twice  Marcy 
was  on  the  point  of  warning  the  boys  in  blue 
to  keep  farther  away,  but  he  remembered  in 
time  that  he  had  been  told  to  ask  no  ques- 
tions, and  that  was  the  same  as  an  order  for- 
bidding him  to  speak  to  the  prisoners.  To  his 
great  joy  the  sentry  who  was  so  anxious  to 
have  a  furlough  did  not  earn  it  that  day.  At 
length  Marcy  saw  the  relief  approaching,  and 
then  he  took  the  first  long,  easy  breath  he  had 
drawn  for  four  miserable  hours.  He  passed 
his  orders  in  as  few  words  as  possible  and 
hurried  down  the  ladder,  feeling  as  if  he  had 
just  been  released  from  prison  himself.  He 
marched  around  the  stockade  with  the  relief, 
and  was  surprised  to  see  liow  extensive  it  was. 
It  was  not  crowded  like  Andersonville,  nor 
were  the  sanitary  conditions  quite  so  bad  ;  but 
they  were  bad  enough,  and  the  mortality  was 


THE  PRISON   PEN.  373 

just  as  great  in  proportion  to  the  number  of 
prisoners  confined  in  it.  When  they  reached 
the  barracks  the  platoon  to  which  he  belonged 
was  drilled  for  half  an  hour  at  stacking  arras, 
and  it  was  not  until  the  movement  was  accom- 
plished to  his  satisfaction  that  the  officer  of 
the  guard  allowed  them  to  break  ranks  and  go 
to  dinner. 

"  You  look  as  though  you  had  had  a  spell 
of  sickness,"  were  the  first   words  his  friend. 
Bowen    said  to   him,    when    the   two    found 
opportunity    to    exchange    a   few    words    in 
private.     "What's   the  matter?" 

"  Wait  until  you  have  stood  in  one  of  those 
boxes  for  four  hours,  and  see  if  you  don't  feel 
as  bad  as  I  look,"  answered  Marcy.  "It's 
awful,  and  I  don't  see  how  I  can  go  there  again. 
Why,  Charley,  the  sentry  wlio  stood  next  to 
me  fairly  ached  to  shoot  one  of  those  poor 
fellows.  I  never  saw  a  quail  hunter  more 
eager  to  get   a   shot   than   he   was." 

"Did  the  prisoner  come  near  the  dead- 
line?" 

"There  must  have  been  fifty  or  more  of 
them  who  came  to  the  bayou  to  get  a  drink  ; 


374  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

but  they  were  not  within  ten  feet  of  the  dead- 
line." 

"  And  what  did  you  do  ?  " 

"  I  ?     I  didn'  t  do  anything. ' ' 

"  Well,  the  next  time  that  thing  happens,  I 
would  make  a  little  demonstration,  if  I  were 
in  your  jplace,"  said  Bowen.  "You  can  act 
as  if  you  were  going  to  shoot,  but  of  course 
you   needn't  unless   you   have   to." 

"Do  you  Avant  me  to  understand  that  I 
will  be   rex)orted  if   I   don't?" 

"That's  what  I  mean.  I  have  had  a  talk 
with  some  of  these  Home  Guards  this  morning, 
and  have  found  out  what  sort  of  chaps  they 
are.  If  you  are  too  easy  with  the  prisoners 
you'll  get  them  down  on  you,  and  then  they'll 
tell  on  you  whether  you  do  anything  wrong 
or  not.  And  you  want  to  keep  out  of  the 
clutches  of  the  captain,  for  he's  a  heathen." 

Marcy  afterward  had  occasion  to  remember 
this   warning. 


CHAPTER  Xy. 

ON  ACCOUNT   OF  THE  DEAD-LINE. 

THE  life  that  Marcy  Gray  led  during  the 
next  three  weeks  can  be  compared  to 
nothing  but  a  nightmare.  His  duties  were  not 
heavy,  but  the  trouble  was  that  when  he  tried 
to  go  to  sleep  he  saw  the  inside  of  the  prison 
pen  as  plainly  as  he  did  while  he  was  standing 
in  his  box.  He  saw  long  lines  of  dead  men  car- 
ried out,  too,  and  tumbled  unceremoniouslyinto 
the  trenches  outside  the  stockade,  where  they 
were  left  without  a  head-board  to  show  who 
they  were  or  where  they  came  from.  All  this 
while  he  was  losing  flesh  and  strength  as  well 
as  courage,  and  Bowen  declared  that,  if  they 
did  not  "make  a  break"  very  soon,  Marcy 
would  have  to  go  into   the  hospital. 

"I  feel  as  though  I  ought  to  go  there  now," 
said  the  latter  wearily.  "To  tell  the  honest 
truth,  I  haven't  pluck  enough  to  make  a 
break  for  liberty  ;  we  are  too  closely  watched. 

375 


376  SAILOR   JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

When  I  am  on  post  after  dark,  I  notice  that 
an  officer  or  a  corporal  comes  around  every 
hour  to   see  if  the  guard   is  all  right." 

"That  hajDpens  only  on  pleasant  nights; 
but  I  have  noticed  tliat  on  stormy  nights  the 
officer  of  the  guard  hugs  his  comfortable 
quarters  as  closely  as  we  do  our  boxes,"  re- 
I)lied  Bo  wen.  "You'll  pick  up  and  be  your- 
self again  as  soon  as  we  are  out  of  reach  of 
this  place,  and  you  mustn't  give  way  to  your 
gloomy  feelings.  The  next  rainy  night  that 
we  are  on  post  together  we'll  skip.  I  have 
been  making  inquiries  about  the  country  west 
of  here,  and  know  just  how  to  travel  in  order 
to  reach  my  home.  All  you've  got  to  do  is  to 
be  ready  to  move  when  I  say  the  word,  and  I 
will  take  you  safely  through." 

It  would  have  been  very  comforting  to  hear 
Bowen  talk  in  this  confident  way,  if  Marcy 
had  only  been  able  to  believe  that  the  man 
could  keep  his  x3romise  ;  but  unfortunately  he 
could  not  get  up  any  enthusiasm.  The  spirit- 
less prisoners  inside  the  stockade  were  not  more 
indifferent  to  their  fate  than  he  was  to  his. 
There  had  been  no  attempts    at  escape  that 


ON  ACCOUNT   OF   THE  DEAD-LINE.  377 

Marcy  knew  anything  about,  bat  two  unfin- 
ished tunnels  had  been  discovered  and  filled 
up,  and  the  pack  of  "nigger  dogs"  that  the 
commander  used  in  tracking  fugitives  had 
been  brought  into  the  pen  and  exhibited  to  the 
prisoners,  so  that  they  might  know  what  they 
had  to  expect  in  case  they  succeeded  in  get- 
ting outside  the  stockade.  But  Bowen  de- 
clared that  the  hounds  would  not  bother  him 
and  Marcy,  If  they  escaped  during  a  storm 
the  rain  would  wash  away  the  scent  so  that 
they  could   not   be   tracked. 

It  was  while  Marcy  was  in  this  unfortunate 
frame  of  mind  that  something  occurred  to 
arouse  him  from  his  lethargy  and  drive  him 
almost  to  desperation.  It  was  on  the  morning 
following  the  day  on  which  a  fresh  lot  of 
prisoners  had  been  received  into  the  pen, 
Marcy  stood  near  the  gate  when  they  went  in, 
and  noticed  that  there  were  not  more  than 
half  a  dozen  blankets  in  the  party,  that  some 
of  them  were  barefooted,  and  others  destitute 
of  coats  and  hats. 

"Them  Yanks  haint  got  nothin'  to  trade," 
said  a  Home  Guard  who  stood  near  him. 


378  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

"  Whose  fault  is  it  ? "  replied  Marcy.  *'They 
never  looked  that  way  when  they  were  cap- 
tured." 

"No,  I  don't  reckon  they  did.  Them 
fellars  up  the  country  have  went  through  'em 
good  fashion.  But  I  don't  blame  'em  for  that. 
I  only  wish  I  could  get  the  first  pull  at  a  Yank 
who  has  a  good  coat  or  a  pair  of  number  ten 
shoes  onto  his  feet.  I  wouldn't  be  goin' 
around  ragged  like  I  am  now,  I  bet  you." 

It  was  one  of  these  fresh  prisoners  who 
caused  Marcy  Gray  to  fall  into  the  clutches  of 
the  commander  of  the  prison,  whom  Bowen 
had  denounced  as  a  "  heathen,"  He  went  on 
post  at  twelve  o'clock  the  next  day,  Bowen 
occuj)ying  the  box  on  his  right,  while  the 
Home  Guard  who  said  he  would  like  to  have 
a  chance  to  steal  a  coat  and  a  pair  of  shoes 
stood  guard  in  the  one  on  his  left.  The  new 
prisoners  had  had  time  to  take  in  the  situa- 
tion, and  to  learn  that  if  they  preferred  a  shel- 
ter of  some  sort  to  the  bare  ground,  or  cooked 
rations  instead  of  raw  ones,  they  were  at 
liberty  to  provide  themselves  with  these  luxu- 
ries if  they  could,  for  their  captors  would  not 


ON   ACCOUNT   OF  THE  DEAD-LINE.  379 

furnish  tliera.  But  liow  could  they  be  ex- 
pected to  buiki  dug-outs  when  they  did  not 
have  even  pocket  knives  to  dig  with  ?  and  how 
could  they  bake  corn  bread  when  every  flat 
stone  and  piece  of  board  that  could  be  found 
was  in  the  possession  of  someone  who  would 
not  part  with  it  for  love  or  money  ?  There 
was  a  treasure  lying  on  the  ground  in  front  of 
Marcy's  box,  and  directly  under  the  strip  of 
board  that  marked  the  inner  edge  of  the  dead- 
line. It  was  a  battered  tin  cup.  How  it 
came  there,  and  why  someone  had  not  tried 
to  obtain  possession  of  it,  was  a  mystery  ;  but 
it  had  been  discovered  by  a  party  of  new- 
comers, perhaps  a  dozen  of  them  in  all,  who 
looked  at  the  cup  with  longing  eyes  and  then 
glanced  apprehensively  at  Marcy,  who  leaned 
on  his  musket  and  looked  down  on  them. 
One  of  the  most  daring  of  the  party  seemed 
determined  to  make  an  effort  to  secure  the 
cup,  but  as  often  as  he  bent  forward  as  if  he 
were  about  to  make  a  dash  for  it,  his  com- 
rades  seized  him  and  pulled  him  back. 

"Poor  fellow,"    thought    Marcy,    who   ad- 
mired   the    prisoner's  courage.     "He    little 


380  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

knows  how  glad  I  would  be  to  tell  liim  to 
come  and  get  it.  The  cup  isn't  inside  the 
dead-line  anyway,  and  if  he  makes  a  grab  for 
it  he  can  have  it  for  all  I  will  do  to  stop  him." 

The  result  of  this  mental  resolution  was  the 
same  as  though  Marcy  had  announced  it  in 
words.  As  quick  as  thought  the  daring  sol- 
dier made  a  jump  for  the  dead-line,  snatched 
the  cup  from  the  ground,  and  in  a  second  more 
was  back  among  his  comrades,  who  closed 
around  him  in  a  body,  effectually  covering 
him  from  the  three  muskets,  Marcy' s,  Bo  wen's, 
and  the  Home  Guard's,  that  were  pointed  in 
his  direction.  They  ran  among  the  tents  and 
dug-outs  and  mingled  with  the  other  prisoners, 
so  that  it  would  have  been  impossible  for  the 
guards  to  identify  a  single  one  of  them. 

"Good  for  the  Yank!"  thought  Marcy. 
"That's  what  I  call  pluck.  He'll  have  some- 
thing to  dig  with  at  any  rate,  and  perhaps  he 
can  straighten  that  cup  out  so  that  he  can 
cook   his   corn  meal  in   it." 

H  Marcy  and  Bowen  had  fired  ab  the  man  it 
would  have  been  with  the  intention  of  missing 
him,  but  not  so  with  the  Home  Guard  on  the 


ON"  ACCOUNT   OF  THE   DEAD-LINE.  381 

left,  who  would  have  drawn  a  fine  bead  in  the 
hope  of  winning  a  thirty  days'  furlough.  The 
latter  was  fighting  mad.  He  shook  his  fist  at 
Marcy  and  shouted  in  stentorian  tones  : 

"  Corporal  of  the  guard,  number  'leven  !  " 

"By  gracious!"  gasped  Marcy.  "He's 
going   to  report  it." 

He  glanced  toward  Bo  wen's  box,  and  knew 
by  the  way  his  friend  shook  his  head  at  him 
that  there  was  trouble  in  store  for  somebody  ; 
but  how  could  he  be  blamed  more  than  any- 
one else  ?  than  the  Home  Guard,  for  instance, 
who  had  as  fair  a  chance  to  shoot  as  any 
blood-thirsty  rebel  could  ask  for  ?  The  cor- 
poral came  promptly  and  went  into  the  Home 
Guard's  box,  and  Marcy  could  see  the  angry 
man  pointing  out  the  position  of  the  cup  and 
flourishing  his  clenched  hand  in  the  air  to  give 
emphasis  to  something  he  was  saying.  After 
the  corporal  had  heard  his  story  he  descended 
the  ladder  and  came  into  Marcy' s  box. 

"  Sentry,  what  were  you  put  here  for,  any- 
way ?  "  were  the  first  words  he  spoke.  "  Why 
didn't  you  shoot  that  man  ?" 

"There  were  two  reasons  why  I  didn't  do 


382  SAILOK  JACK,  THE  TRADER.      ' 

it,"  answered  Marcy.  "My  orders  are  to 
shoot  if  I  see  a  prisoner  trying  to  get  over  or 
under  the  dead-line,  but  that  man  didn't  try 
to  get  over  or  under,  for  the  cup  wasn't  inside. 
It  was  under  that  strip  of  board." 

"No  matter.  It  was  at  the  dead-line,  and  it 
was  your  business  to  pop  him  over,"  said  the 
corporal.  "I  am  afraid  the  old  man  will  give 
you  a  taste  of  military  discipline  when  you 
come  off  post." 

"Why  should  he  ?  I  haven't  disobeyed  any 
order.  And  the  other  reason  why  I  didn't 
shoot  was  because  I  didn't  have  time.  That 
Yank  was  as  swift  as  a  bird  on  the  wing,  and 
before  you  could  wink  twice  he  was  back 
among  his  friends,  and  I  couldn't  see  him." 

"Then  why  didn't  you  shoot  into  the 
crowd?"  demanded  the   corporal. 

"And  kill  or  wound  somebody  who  hadn't 
done  a  thing  % "  exclaimed  Marcy. 

"  Why,  what's  the  matter  with  you?  I  shall 
begin  to  think  ]3retty  soon  that  you  are  a 
Yank  yourself.  Of  course  you  ought  to  have 
fired  into  the  crowd  and  made  an  example  of 
somebody.     What's  one  Yank  more  or  less, 


ON   ACCOUNT   OF  THE  DEAD-LINE.  383 

anyway  ?  I  believe  in  shooting  everyone  who 
comes  down  here," 

"Why  didn't  that  man  in  the  next  box 
shoot  ? "  inquired  Marcy.  "  He  had  the  same 
chance  I  had,  and  is  as  much  to  blame  because 
that  Yank  made  a  dash  to  the  dead-line  and 
got  the  cup." 

"Not  much  he  aint.  The  thing  happened 
directly  in  front  of  your  post,  it  was  your 
duty  to  kill  that  man,  you  disobeyed  orders 
by  not  doing  it,  and  of  course  I  shall  have  to 
report  you." 

"If  I  get  into  trouble  by  it  I  shall  shoot  at 
the  next  man  who  comes  within  twenty  feet  of 
the  dead-line,"  said  Marcy. 

"You'll  be  sorry  you  didn't  make  that  res- 
olution long  ago,"  replied  the  corporal,  as 
he  backed  down  the  ladder.  He  went  into 
Bo  wen's  box  to  hear  what  he  had  to  say 
about  it,  and  then  went  back  to  headquar- 
ters ;  and  two  hours  later  the  relief  came 
around. 

"If  I  had  been  in  your  box  I  would  have 
been  on  my  way  home  by  this  time  to-mor- 
row," said  the  Home  Guard,  as  he  and  Marcy 


384  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADEll. 

and  BoAven  fell  into  their  places  in  the  rear  of 
the  line.  "You'll  never  have  another  chance 
like  that  to  earn  a  furlough.  Why  didn't  you 
shoot  that  there  Yank  ? " 

"Why  didn't  you?"  retorted  Marcy. 
"You   had  as  good   a   show  as   I." 

"Not  much,  I  didn't.  He  was  closter  to  you 
nor  he  was  to  me,  and  besides  I  didn't  have 
time." 

"Neither  did  I,  I  never  could  hit  a  mov- 
ing object  with  a  single  bullet." 

"You  could  have  shoAved  your  good  will  if 
you  had  been  a  mind  to.  That's  what  I  think, 
and  less'n  the  old  man  has  changed  mightily 
sense  I  jined  his  comp'ny,  it's  what  he'll  think 
about  it,  too." 

The  unhappy  Marcy  had  made  up  his  mind 
that  he  would  have  to  stand  punishment  of 
some  sort  for  permitting  a  prisoner  to  put  his 
hand  under  the  dead-line  ;  and  his  worst  fears 
were  confirmed  when  he  came  within  sight  of 
the  barracks  and  saw  all  the  officers  of  the 
guard  and  the  commander  of  the  prison  stand- 
ing there,  and  three  Home  Guards  stationed 
close  by,  with. muskets  in  their  hands.     When 


ON   ACCOUNT   OF  THE   DEAD-LINE.  385 

tlie  platoon  was  halted  before  tlie  door  and 
brought   to  a  front,  the  captain  said : 

"No.  12,  step   out   here." 

As  that  was  the  number  of  the  post  from 
which  Marcy  had  just  been  relieved,  he  moved 
one  pace  to  the  front  and  saluted. 

"  So  you  are  the  low-down  conscript  who 
presumes  to  set  my  orders  at  defiance,  are 
you?"  continued  the  captain.  "What  were 
you  put  in  that  box  for  ?  Why  did  you  allow 
that  prisoner  to  come  to  the  line  ?  " 

"Sir,  my  orders  were "  began  Marcy. 

"Shut  up!"  shouted  the  captain,  growing 
red  in  the  face.  "If  you  talk  back  to  me  I'll 
put  a  gag  in  your  mouth.  Trice  him  up,  and 
leave  him  that  way  till  he  learns  who's  boss  of 
this  camp." 

Without  saying  a  word,  one  of  the  three 
Home  Guards  before  spoken  of  took  Marcy' s 
musket  from  his  hand,  while  another  un- 
buckled the  belt  that  held  his  cartridge-box. 
Then  they  laid  hold  of  his  arms,  and  with  the 
officer  of  the  guard  marching  in  front  and  the 
third  soldier  bringing  up  the  rear,  led  him  to 
a  tree  that  stood  before  the  door  of  the  cap- 

25 


386  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

tain's  quarters.  It  did  not  tal^e  them  more 
than  two  minutes  to  do  their  cruel  work,  and 
when  it  was  over  and  the  officer  of  the  guard 
moved  away  with  two  of  his  men,  leaving  the 
other  to  keep  watch  over  the  culx)rit  with  a 
loaded  musket,  Marcy  Gray  was  standing 
on  his  toes,  and  his  arms  were  drawn  high 
above  his  head  by  a  strong  cord  which  had 
been  tied  around  his  thumbs  and  thrown  over 
a  limb  of  the  tree.  The  pain  was  intense,  but 
the  boy  shut  his  teeth  hard  and  gave  no  sign 
of  suffering  till  his  head  fell  over  on  his 
shoulder  and  he  fainted  dead  away.  When 
he  came  to  himself  he  was  lying  in  his  bunk, 
his  wounded  hands  were  resting  in  a  basin  of 
hot  water  which  Bowen  was  holding  for  him, 
and  another  good-hearted  conscri^Dt  was  keep- 
ing his  head  and  face  wet  with  water  he  had 
just  drawn  from  tlie  well.  Their  countenances 
were  full  of  sympathy,  and  there  weie  signs  of 
rage  to  be  seen  as  well. 

"This  is  rough  on  me,  boys,"  groaned 
Marcy. 

"While  you  were  hanging  to  that  tree  I 
asked  some    questions    about  Captain    Den- 


ON   ACCOUNT   OF   THE  DEAD-LINE.  387 

ning,"  whispered  Bowen,  "and  now  I  know 
who  he  is,  and  where  he  hails  from.  He  owns 
a  fine  plantation  about  twenty  miles  from 
where  I  live  when  I  am  at  home,  and  we  shall 
pass  it  on  our  way  to  the  river." 

"O  Charley,  let's  go  to-night,"  murmured 
Marcy.  "I  shall  die  if  I  stay  here  any 
longer." 

"That's  what  I  have  thought  all  along,  and 
I  am  with  you  when  we  go  on  post  at  twelve 
o'clock.  It's  going  to  rain  like  smoke  in  less 
than  half  an  hour,  and  when  it  begins  it  will 
keep  it  up  for  a  day  or  two.  I  am  glad  if  you 
have  been  waked  up,  but  sorry  it  had  to  be 
done  in   tliis   way." 

"  Captain  Denning  will  be  sorry  for  it,  too," 
said  Marcy. 

In  spite  of  the  agony  he  was  in,  but  one 
thought  filled  Marcy  Gray's  mind,  and  that 
was  that  under  no  circumstances  would  he 
pass  another  day  alive  in  that  camp.  No 
matter  how  great  the  danger  might  be,  he 
would  escape  that  very  night.  He  would  go 
with  a  musket  in  his  hand  and  a  box  of  car- 
tridges by  his  side,  and  if  he  were  recaptured, 


388  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

it  would  be  after  every  bullet  in  those  car- 
tridges liad  found  a  lodgement  in  the  body  of 
some  Home  Guard.  He  did  not  have  very 
much  to  say,  but  Bovven  knew  by  the  expres- 
sion on  his  face  that  Marcy  was  thoroughly 
aroused  at  last. 

Marcy  did  not  want  any  supper,  but  man- 
aged to  eat  a  little,  and  to  slip  a  generous 
piece  of  corn  bread  in  his  pocket  for  the  lunch 
he  knew  he  would  need  before  morning.  The 
storm  did  not  come  in  half  an  hour,  as  Bowen 
had  predicted,  but  it  came  a  little  later,  and 
when  the  two  went  on  post  at  twelve  o'clock, 
the  night  was  as  dark  as  a  pocket,  and  the 
rain  was  falling  in   torrents. 

"Splendid  weather,"  Bowen  found  oppor- 
tunity to  whisper  to  Marcy,  "  It  couldn't  be 
better.  Listen  for  my  signal,  for  we  must  start 
as  soon  as  the  guard  is  out  of  the  way." 

"  You'll  take  your  gun  ?  "  said  Marcy. 

"Of  course,  and  I'll  use  it  too,  before  I  will 
allow  myself  to  be  brought  back  here." 

If  it  was  a  splendid  night  for  their  purpose  it 
was  a  terrible  one  for  the  prisoners,  especially 
for  the  new-comers  who  had  not  had  time 


OlSr   ACCOUNT   OF   THE   DEAD-LINE.  389 

to  finish  their  dug-outs.  To  make  matters 
worse  for  them  there  had  been  a  sudden  and 
noticeable  cliange  in  the  temperature.  It  was 
almost  freezing  cold,  and  protected  as  he  was 
by  the  walls  of  his  box,  and  by  his  warm 
blanket,  which  he  had  tied  over  his  shoulders 
like  a  cloak,  Marcy  shivered  as  he  stood  with 
his  musket  in  the  hollow  of  his  arm  and  his 
aching,  bandaged  hands  clasped  in  front  of 
him.  He  stood  thus  for  ten  minutes  when  he 
heard  a  gentle  tapping  at  the  foot  of  his  lad- 
der. That  was  the  signal  agreed  upon  between 
him  and  Bo  wen,  and  without  a  moment's  hesi- 
tation Marcy  wheeled  around  and  backed  to 
the  ground. 

"  Is  this  you,  Charley  ?  "  he  whispered.  "  I 
can't  see   a  thing." 

"No  more  can  I,"  was  the  answer,  "but  I 
know  where  we  are  and  which  way  we  want  to 
go,  and  that's  enough.  Grab  hold  of  the  tail 
of  my  blanket  and  I  will  pilot  you  to  the  rail- 
road track.  Mark  my  words:  We'll  never 
hear  a  hound-dog  on  our  trail.  They'll  think 
we  have  struck  for  the  coast,  and  that's  the 
way  they'll  go  to  find  us." 


390  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

If  we  were  to  write  a  full  history  of  the  long 
tramp  these  two  fugitives  made  before  they 
found  themselves  safe  at  Rodney  Gray's  home, 
as  we  have  described  in  a  former  chapter,  it 
would  be  to  repeat  the  experience  of  hundreds 
of  escaped  Union  prisoners  whose  thrilling 
stories  have  already  been  given  to  the  world. 
Captain  Denning's  "nigger  dogs"  never  once 
gave  tongue  on  their  trail,  and  at  no  time  were 
they  in  serious  danger  of  falling  into  the  hands 
of  their  enemies.  Of  course  there  were  other 
Home  Guards  and  other  dogs  in  Alabama  and 
Mississippi,  and  more  than  once  they  were  pur- 
sued by  them  ;  but  every  negro  they  met  on 
the  road  was  their  friend,  and,  believing  Marcy 
and  Bowen  to  be  escaped  Federals,  took  big 
risks  to  help  them  on  their  way.  During  the 
three  days  they  rested  at  Bowen' s  home  in 
Georgia  they  were  in  more  danger  than  at  any 
other  time,  for  Bowen' s  neighbors  were  all 
rebels.  They  knew  that  he  had  been  forced 
into  the  army,  and  if  they  had  suspected  that 
he  was  hiding  in  the  loft  of  his  father's  cotton 
gin,  they  Avould  have  left  no  stone  unturned  to 
effect  his  capture.     But  outside  of  Bowen's 


OlSr   ACCOUNT   OF   THE   DEAD-LINE.  391 

family  no  one  knew  it  exce^Dt  one  or  two  faitli- 
f  111  blacks,  who  could  be  trusted,  and  after  they 
liad  made  up  for  the  sleep  they  had  lost,  and 
some  of  Marcy's  money  had  been  expended  for 
clothing,  shoes,  and  blankets,  the  fugitives  set 
out  to  pay  their  respects  to  the  commander 
of  the  jDrison  from  which  they  had  escaped. 
They  remained  on  his  plantation  a  part  of  one 
night,  and  when  they  left,  everything  that 
would  burn  was  in  flames.  It  was  a  high- 
handed proceeding,  and  many  a  soldier  not 
wanting  in  courage  would  have  hesitated 
about  taking  chances  so  desperate  ;  but  fortu- 
nately another  rain  storm  washed  out  their  trail 
and  if  they  were  pursued  they  never  knew  it. 

*' There's  one  thing  I  am  sorry  for,"  said 
Marcy,  as  he  and  Bowen  halted  for  a  moment 
on  the  summit  of  a  little  rise  of  ground  from 
which  they  had  a  fair  view  of  the  destructive 
work  that  was  going  on  on  the  plantation  they 
liad  just  left.  "  I  am  not  revengeful,  but  I  do 
think  Captain  Denning  ought  to  be  punished 
for  giving  me  these  hands  that  I  may  not  be 
able  to  use  for  months,  and  I  wish  he  could 
know  that  I  had  a  hand  in  starting  that  fire." 


392  SAILOR   JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

Marcy's  hands  certainly  were  in  a  bad  way. 
Tliey  needed  medical  attention,  but  if  there  was 
a  surgeon  in  the  country  they  had  not  been 
able  to  find  it  out.  Bo  wen  gave  them  the  best 
care  he  could,  but  Marcy  was  so  nearly  help- 
less that  he  could  not  even  carry  his  musket, 
lie  took  no  note  of  time  or  of  the  progress  they 
made,  but  left  everything  to  his  friend  Bowen, 
who  could  always  tell  him  where  they  were, 
how  many  miles  they  had  made  that  day,  and 
how  far  they  would  have  to  travel  before  they 
could  get  something  to  eat.  If  he  sometimes 
drew  on  his  imagination,  and  shortened  the 
distance  to  the  Mississippi  by  a  hundred  miles 
or  so,  who  can  blame  him  ?  He  knew  that 
everything  depended  on  keeping  up  Marcy' s 
courage. 

At  last,  when  the  homesick  boy  became 
so  weary  and  foot-sore  that  he  could 
scarcely  drag  himself  along  the  dusty  road, 
he  noticed  with  a  thrill  of  hope  that  the 
negroes  who  befriended  him  and  Bowen  no 
longer  spoke  of  "Alabam'"  but  had  a  good 
deal  to  say  about  "  Mississipp' "  ;  and  this 
made  it  plain  to  Marcy  that  they  were  slowly 


ON   ACCOUNT   OF  THE  DEAD-LINE.  393 

drawing  near  to  the  end  of  their  journey,  and 
that  his  companion   had  been  deceiving  him. 

"If  you  are  as  well  acquainted  with  the 
country  as  you  pretend  to  be,  how  does  it 
come  that  you  didn't  know  when  we  passed 
the  boundary  line  into  the  State  of  Missis- 
sippi?" said  he.  "But  I  don't  care.  I  re- 
member enough  of  geography  to  know  about 
where  we  are  now,  and  that  we  will  save  time 
and  distance  if  we  strike  a  straiglit  south- 
east course,  for  that  is  the  way  Baton  Rouge 
lies  from   here." 

Bowen,  who  had  long  been  out  of  his  reckon- 
ing, was  quite  willing  to  resign  the  leadership, 
and  it  was  a  fortunate  thing  for  them  that  he 
was  ;  for  the  course  Marcy  marked  out  brought 
them  in  due  time  to  the  Ohio  and  Mobile 
Railroad  a  few  miles  north  of  Enterprise.  A 
night  or  two  before  they  got  there  (they 
always  traveled  at  night  and  slept  during  the 
daytime),  they  were  kept  busy  dodging  small 
bodies  of  Confederate  soldiers  who  were  jour- 
neying along  the  same  road  and  in  the  same 
direction  with  themselves.  They  were  evi- 
dently concentrating  at  some  point  in  advance, 


394  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

but  where  and  for  what  purpose  the  fugitives 
could  not  determine  until  some  negroes,  to 
whom  they  appealed  for  assistance,  told  them 
of  Grierson's  raid. 

"  Dat  Yankee  come  down  hyar  from  some 
place  up  de  country,  an'  he  whop  an'  he  burn 
an'  he  steal  eberyting  he  see,"  said  one  of 
the  blacks  gleefully.  "But  de  rebels  gwine 
cotcli  him  at  Enterprise,  an'  you  two  best  not 
go  da'." 

This  glorious  news  infused  wonderful  life 
and  strength  into  Marcy  Gray.  He  forgot  his 
aching  hands  and  feet,  and  from  that  time 
carried  his  own  musket  and  moved  as  if  he 
were  set  on  springs.  He  would  hardly  con- 
sent to  halt  long  enough  to  take  needed  rest, 
for  he  was  anxious  to  intercept  Grierson  if 
possible,  and  warn  him  that  the  rebels  were 
concentrating  to  resist  his  further  advance.. 
But  as  it  happened  Colonel  Grierson  was  miles 
away,  and  it  was  Captain  Forbes,  with  a  squad 
of  thirty-five  men,  who  had  been  detached 
from  the  main  body  to  cut  the  telegraph  north 
of  Macon,  that  the  fugitives  found  and  warned. 
Tliey    ran    upon  them  by    accident,   and  at 


ON   ACCOUNT   OF   THE   DEAD-LINE.  395 

first  thought  they  liad  fallen  into  the  hands 
of  the  rebels.  One  bright  moonlight  night 
tliey  were  hurrying  along  a  road  which  ran 
through  a  piece  of  thick  timber,  when  all  on  a 
sudden  they  were  brought  to  a  standstill  by 
four  men,  who  stepped  from  the  shade  of  the 
trees  and  covered  them  with  their  guns  before 
they  said  a  word.  They  were  soldiers,  for  their 
brass  buttons  showed  plainly  in  the  dim  light ; 
but  whether  they  wore  the  blue  or  the  gray  was 
a  momentous  question  that  the  fugitives  could 
not  answer.  When  one  of  them  spoke  it  was 
in  a  subdued  voice. 

"  Who  comes  there?  "  he  demanded. 

"Friends,"  replied  Marcy  in  tones  just 
loud  enough  to  be  heard  and  understood. 
Then,  believing  that  the  truth  would  hold 
its  own  anywhere,  he  added  desperately ; 
"We  are  escaped  conscripts  on  our  way  to 
the  Mississijipi,  and  we  want  to  see  Grier- 
son." 

"Advance,  friends,  but  be  careful  how  you 
take  them  guns  from  your  shoulders,"  was  the 
next  order  ;  and  when  Marcy  drew  nearer  and 
saw  that  the  sjoeaker  wore  the  yellow  chemons 


396  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

of  a  corporal  of  cavalry  on  his  arms,  his  joy 
knew  no  bounds.  When  he  and  Bowen  had 
been  relieved  of  their  muskets  and  cartridge- 
boxes  the  corporal  inquired  : 

"  Where  are  the  rest  of  you  ?  " 

"  There  are  no  more  of  us,"  answered  Marcy. 
"We  are  alone." 

"Mebbe  you  are  and  mebbe  you  aint,"  said 
the  corporal.  "Jones,  you  take  'em  down  to 
the  captain  and  hurry  back  as  quick  as  you 
can,  for  we  may  need  you  here." 

The  corporal  was  suspicious  and  in  bad 
humor  about  something,  and  so  was  the  cap- 
tain when  they  found  him.  He  had  been  rid- 
ing hard  all  day,  and  had  halted  in  the  woods 
to  give  his  jaded  men  and  horses  an  hour  or 
two  of  rest.  He  knew  that  he  had  been  led 
into  a  trap  by  false  information,  and  by 
a  treacherous  guide  who  managed  to  escape 
amid  a  shower  of  bullets  that  was  rained  upon 
him  as  soon  as  his  treachery  was  discovered  ; 
and  while  his  men  slept  the  captain  rolled 
restlessly  about  on  the  ground,  trying  to  think 
up  some  plan  by  which  he  could  save  his  small 
command  from  falling  into  the  hands  of  the 


ON   ACCOUNT   OF   THE   DEAD-LINE.  397 

Confederates,  wlio  were  making  every  effort 
to  cut  him  off  from  Grierson's  column.  He 
had  been  assured  that  the  way  to  Enterprise 
was  clear,  and  that  if  he  went  in  any  other 
direction  he  would  have  to  fight  his  way 
through,  and  now  came  these  two  escaped  con- 
scripts with  a  different  story.  It  was  little 
wonder  that  Captain  Forbes  did  not  put 
much  faith  in  what  they  had  to  say,  or 
that  he  spoke  sharply  when  he  addressed 
them. 

"How  do  you  know  that  the  Confederate 
troops  you  say  you  saw  along  the  road  were 
striking  for  Enterprise?"  he   inquired. 

"Because  the  negroes  told  us  so,  and  during 
our  journey  we  have  always  found  that  the 
negroes  told  us  the  truth,"  answered  Marcy, 
who   did  most   of  the  talking. 

"  And  you  say  you  have  come  from  Mil- 
ieu?" 

"  Yes,  sir.  We  were  on  post  there  when  we 
escaped." 

"  Do  you  know  where  Milieu  is  ?  " 

"Of  course  we  know  where  it  is." 

"  Well,  now,  what  I  want  to  know  is  this  : 


398  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

Why  did  you  take  such  a  long  tramp  through 
the  country  when  you  were  within  less  than  a 
hundred  miles  of  the  coast?" 

Bowen  answered  this  question,  giving  their 
reasons  as  we  have  given  them  to  the  reader, 
but  the  captain  acted  as  though  he  did  not 
believe  a  word  of  it.  Marcy  tried  to  help  him 
out  by  telling  of  the  relatives  he  expected  to 
meet  when  he  reached  the  Mississippi  River, 
and  the  story  was  so  improbable  that  the  cap- 
tain told  them  bluntly  that  he  believed  they 
were  spies,  that  they  had  come  into  his  camp 
to  see  how  many  men  he  had  under  his  com- 
mand, and  that  they  hoped  to  escape  to  their 
friends  with  the  information.  Marcy  was  sur- 
prised and  hurt  to  find  himself  suspected  by 
the  officer  he  wanted  to  help. 

"  I  assure  you,  sir "  he  began. 

"I've  had  that  trick  played  on  me  twice 
during  this  scout,  and  if  it  is  played  on 
me  again  it  will  be  my  own  fault,"  inter- 
rupted the  captain.  "Consider  yourselves  in 
arrest," 

He  ordered  a  sentry  to  be  placed  over  them 
at  once,  and  we  may  add  that  Marcy  and  his 


ON   ACCOUNT   OF  THE  DEAD-LINE.  399 

friend  were  under  suspicion  all  the  time,  and 
under  guard  most  of  the  time  tliey  remained 
with   Grierson's  men. 

The  next  morning  at  daylight  Captain 
Forbes  resumed  his  rapid  march,  and  in  two 
hours'  time  arrived  within  sight  of  Enterprise, 
which,  to  his  amazement  and  alarm,  he  found 
to  be  filled  with  rebel  soldiers.  There  were 
three  thousand  of  them.  They  were  in  motion 
too,  and  that  proved  that  they  were  aware  of 
his  coming  and  making  ready  to  attack  him. 
A  fight  meant  annihilation  or  capture,  and 
there  was  but  one  way  to  prevent  it.  Halting 
his  men  in  the  edge  of  a  piece  of  Avoods  out  of 
sight  of  the  enemy,  Cax^tain  Forbes  called  a 
single  oflBcer  to  his  side  and  galloped  boldly 
toward  the  town.  He  was  gone  half  an  hour, 
and  when  he  returned  he  placed  himself  at 
the  head  of  his  squad  and  led  it  in  a  headlong 
retreat,  which  did  not  end  until  the  captain 
reported  to  Colonel  Grierson  at  Pearl  River. 
In  speaking  of  this  dashing  exploit  history 
says:  "The  captain,  understanding  his  dan- 
ger, tried  to  bluff  the  enemy  and  succeeded. 
He  rode  boldly  up  to  the  town  and  demanded 


400  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

tlie  instant  surrender  of  tlie  place  to  Colonel 
Griersou.  Colonel  Goodwin,  commanding  the 
Confederate  force,  asked  an  hour  to  consider 
the  proposition,  to  which  request  Forbes  was 
only  too  willing  to  accede.  That  hour,  with 
rapid  riding,  delivered  his  little  company  from 
its  embarrassing  situation." 

That  rapid  retreat  was  about  as  much  as 
Marcy  and  Bowen  could  stand  after  their  long 
walk  across  the  country.  They  were  given 
broken-down  plough-mules  to  ride,  and  these 
delightful  beasts,  which  took  every  step  under 
protest  and  "  bucked  "  viciously  when  pressed 
too  hard,  had  well-nigh  jolted  the  breath  out 
of  them  by  the  time  they  reached  the  main 
column  at  Pearl  River.  But  they  journeyed 
more  leisurely  after  that,  all  the  most  danger- 
ous places  along  their  line  of  march  having 
been  left  behind,  and  when  the  fugitives 
learned  that  they  were  within  forty-eight 
hours'  ride  of  Baton  Rouge,  and  that  the  col- 
umn would  pass  through  Mooreville  on  the  fol- 
lowing daj'-,  they  asked  and  obtained  permis- 
sion to  accompany  the  scouts  that  were  sent 
on  ahead   the  next  morning.     That  was  the 


0]Sr   ACCOUNT   OF   THE   DEAD-LINE.  401 

way  they  came  to  ride  into  Rodney  Gray's 
dooryard  as  we  have  recorded. 

"You  have  heard  my  story,"  concluded 
Marcy,  settling  contentedly  back  among  the 
pillows.  "Now,  who  is  going  to  give  me  a 
drink  of  water? " 

"How  you  must  have  suffered,"  said  his 
aunt,  with   tears  in  her  eyes. 

"It's  all  over  now,"  replied  the  young  hero 
cheerfully,  "and  I  am  anxious  to  send  word 
to  mother.  I  wish  one  of  you  would  write  to 
her  at  Plymouth,  care  of  Captain  Burrows,  and 
I  am  sure  he  will  have  the  letter  delivered." 

"Do  you  know  that  you  slept  for  eighteen 
straight  hours?"  replied  Rodney,  "Well, 
that  gave  me  time  to  write  the  letter  and  take 
it  to  Baton  Rouge  and  mail  it  to  the  address 
Jack  gave  me  before  he  went  home.  Now 
that  you  are  safe  I  don't  see  what  there  is  to 
hinder  Jack  from  carrying  out  his  plan  of 
becoming  a  cotton  trader.  If  he  wants  to  pay 
back  to  his  mother  every  dollar  she  is  likely 
to  lose  by  this  war,  I  don't  know  any  better 
thing  for  him   to   do." 

"  Did  you  say  as  much  in  your  letter  ? " 

26 


402  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

"I  said  all  that  and  more.  I  am  sure  lie 
will  come,  if  it  is  only  to  see  you." 

"Rodney,  you're  a  brick,"  exclaimed 
Marcy.  "Butlwisli  you  could  tell  me  more 
about  Tom  Allison   and  Mark   Goodwin." 

But  Rodney  couldn't,  for  the  very  good 
reason  that  all  Jack  said  about  it  was  that 
they  had  been  bushwhacked  ;  and  with  this 
meagre  information  Marcy  was  obliged  to  be 
satisfied. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

IT  was  a  long  time  before  Marcy  Gray  could 
bring  himself  to  believe  that  he  was  not 
dreaming,  and  that  he  would  awake  to  find 
himself  a  conscript  guard  at  the  Millen  prison 
pen,  but  this  uncertainty  did  not  prevent  him 
from  making  long  strides  toward  recovery. 
His  faithful  friend  Bo  wen  declared  that  he 
could  see  him  getting  well.  In  less  than  a  week 
he  was  strong  enough  to  ride  to  Baton  Rouge 
M'ith  Rodney.  He  reported  to  the  provost 
marshal,  who  listened  in  amazement  to  his 
story,  and  gave  him  and  Bowen  a  standing 
pass  in  and  out  of  the  Union  lines.  At  the 
end  of  two  weeks  he  began  to  wonder  why  he 
did  not  hear  from  Jack,  and  at  the  end  of 
three  that  wished-for  individual  presented 
himself  in  person,  much  to  the  delight  of  all 
his  relatives.  He  rode  into  Rodney's  yard  in 
company  with  Mr.  Gray,  as  he  had  done  on  a 

403 


404  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

former  occasion,  and  no  sooner  did  his  eyes 
rest  upon  Marcy,  who  sprang  down  the  steps 
to  meet  him,  than  he  began  quoting  some- 
thing. 

"  This  accident  and  flood  of  fortune 
So  far  exceed  all  instance,  all  discourse, 
That  I  am  ready  to  distrust  mine  eyes, 
And  wrangle  with  my  reason  that  persuades  me 
To  any  other  trust," 

exclaimed  Jack,  as  he  swung  himself  from  his 
mule  and  clasped  his  strong  arms  about  the 
brother  he  had  never  thought  to  see  again. 
"How  are   you,  conscript?" 

"O  Jack!"  was  all  Marcy  could  say  in 
reply. 

"She's  pretty  well,"  said  the  sailor,  who 
knew  that  Marcy  would  have  asked  about  his 
mother  if  his  heart  hadn't  been  so  full,  "and 
has  grown  ten  years  younger  since  she  heard 
you   were   safe   among   friends." 

He  shook  hands  with  Rodney,  whom  he  ad- 
dressed as  "Johnny,"  and  then  walked  up  to 
Bowen  and  fairly  doubled  him  up  with  one  of 
his  sailor  grips. 

"  You  are  the  man  I  have  to  thank  for  sav- 


SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER.  405 

ing  my  brother's  life,  are  you?"  said  he  in  a 
trembling  voice.  "I  don't  know  that  I  shall 
ever  have  a  chance  to  show  how  grateful  I  am 
to  you,  but  if  you  ever  need  a  friend  you  will 
always  find  liini  in  Jack  Gray." 

It  was  a  happy  meeting  altogether,  and  if 
one  might  judge  by  the  way  he  acted,  Sailor 
Jack  himself  didn't  know  whether  he  was 
awake  or  dreaming.  Marcy's  hands  still 
showed  the  effect  of  his  unmerited  punishment, 
and  when  his  big  brother  looked  at  them,  an 
expression  came  upon  his  face  that  might  have 
made  Captain  Denning  a  trifle  uneasy  if  he 
had  been  there  to  see  it. 

"  My  orders  are  to  bring  you  home  with  me, 
young  man,"  said  he.  "And,  Bo  wen,  you 
must  go,  too." 

"  Don't  you  think  it  would  be  dangerous  ?  " 
inquired  Rodney,  who  had  somehow  got  it 
'into  his  head  that  Marcy  would  have  to  live 
with  him  as  long  as  the  war  continued. 

"  Union  people  are  safer  in  our  country  now 
than  they  ever  were  before,"  answered  Jack. 
"There's  been  some  shooting  done  up  there 
since  I  wrote  to  you." 


406  SAILOE  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

"  O  Jack !  "  exclaimed  Marcy.  "  Were  Tom 
and  Mark  very  badly  Imrt  ? " 

"Hurt!"  repeated  the  sailor.  "Well,  I 
reckon  so.  They  were  killed  deader' n  her- 
rings, and  so  were  Beardsley,  Shelby,  and 
Dillon.  Buffum,  the  spy  who  was  the  means 
of  getting  you  captured,  was  hanged,  and  so 
was  mother's  old  overseer,  Hanson.  I  tell 
you,  Rodney,  the  country  is  full  of  Union 
men,  and  they  have  been  carrying  things  with 
a  high  hand  since  Marcy  went  away." 

"I  should  think  they  had,"  said  the  latter, 
who  had  never  been  more  astounded.  "I  am 
sorry  to  hear  about  Tom  and  Mark." 

"Well,  then,  why  didn't  they  mind  their 
own  business  ?  If  they'd  had  a  grain  of  com- 
mon sense  they  would  have  known  that  they 
were  bound  to  get  paid  off  sooner  or  later. 
They  brought  it  on  themselves,  and  it  is  a 
wonder  to  me  that  they  were  not  dealt  with 
long  before." 

"  Jack,"  said  Marcy  suddenly.  "You  had 
no  hand  in  it?" 

"  Not  a  hand.  Not  a  finger,  though  there's 
no  telling  what  I  might  have  done  if  Captain 


SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER.  407 

Denning  had  been  there,  and  I  had  known 
that  he  triced  you  up  for  nothing.  Your 
friends,  the  refugees,  didn't  need  any  help 
from  me.  There  are  eighty  or  a  hundred  of 
them  now,  and  they  have  become  regular  guer- 
illas. They  are  well  armed,  and  when  I  came 
away  were  talking  of  raiding  Williamston 
and  burning  the  jail.  I  think  you  will  be  safe 
at  home,  for  rebel  cavalry  don' t  scout  through 
our  section  any  more." 

"  How  soon  do  you  expect  to  go  ? "  inq^uired 
Rodney. 

"  Just  as  soon  as  I  can  fill  up  the  Hyperion'' s 
hold,"  replied  Jack.  "She  is  due  in  New 
Orleans  week  after  next,  and  I  want  a  boat- 
load of  cotton  ready  for  her  when  she  pulls  in 
to  the  wharf.  So  you  can  trot  out  your  four 
hundred  bales  as  soon  as  you  get  ready,  and 
I  will  give  you  twenty-five  cents  greenback 
money  for  it.  I  was  dead  broke  when  I  was 
here  before,  but  I'm  wealthy  now,"  added' 
Jack,  pulling  from  his  pocket  a  roll  of  bills 
that  was  almost  as  big  as  his  wrist.  "  IVIarcy,' 
that's  mother's  money.'' 

"  I  am  overjoyed  to  hear  it,''  s^id  the  boy. 


408  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADPZR. 

"And  she  was  overjoyed  to  get  rid  of  it,  for 
it  has  been  nothing  but  a  botheration  to  her 
ever  since  slie  drew  it  from  the  bank.  Old 
Morris  showed  me  where  you  and  he  buried  it 
on  the  night  you  dug  it  out  of  the  cellar  wall, 
and  I  brought  it  to  New  Orleans  and  ex- 
changed it  for  greenbacks  at  a  premium  that 
made  me  open  my  eyes.  I  am  first  officer  of 
the  Hyperion^  and  in  partnership  with  her 
owners.  I  do  not  expect  to  have  time  to  make 
more  than  two  or  three  trips  on  her  before  the 
Mississippi  is  opened,  and  then  I  hope  to 
come  back  here  and  run  a  trading  boat  on 
the  river," 

"Where  will  I  be  while  you  are  doing 
that?"  inquired  Marcy. 

"  At  home  with  your  mother,  where  all  good 
boys  ought  to  be.  You  will  get  not  less  than  a 
dollar  for  your  cotton,"  said  Jack,  turning  to 
Rodney,  "perhaps  a  dollar  ten,  minus  the 
freight " 

"You  don't  mean  it!"  Rodney  almost 
gasped  ;  for  Jack's  matter-of-fact  way  of  speak- 
ing of  the  fortune  that  seemed  about  to  drop 
into  his  father's  hands  took  his  breath  away. 


SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TKADER.  409 

"What's  the  reason  I  don't  mean  it?  I 
hope  you  don't  imagine  that  I  am  going  to  let 
anyone  speculate  with  your  property  !  "  ex- 
claimed the  sailor.  "Whatever  the  market 
price  is  when  your  cotton  is  landed  in  New 
York,  that  you  will  get,  less  the  freight  the 
Hyperion  will  charge  you  for  taking  it  there. 
Tlie  twenty-five  cents  I  am  authorized  to  offer 
you  is  business ;  what  you  will  receive  over 
and  above  that  will  be  owing  to  kinship. 
Your  father  and  mine  vrere  brothers.  Now 
what  shall  we  do  with  that  man  Lambert ; 
send    him   North  for  a  guerilla    or  what?" 

"I  am  perfectly  willing  to  buy  him  off," 
said  Mr.  Gray.  "I  can  afford  to  be  liberal, 
for  I  really  believe  we  would  have  lost  our  cot- 
ton if  it  hadn't  been  for  him  and  his  'phan- 
tom bushwhackers.'  " 

"  I  am  afraid  he'll  not  let  you  buy  him  off 
for  any  reasonable  sum,"  said  Rodney. 

"You  might  try  him  the  first  chance  you 
get  and  find  out  what  he  is  willing  to  do," 
suggested  Jack.  "  Any  way  to  get  rid  of  him, 
so  that  he  will  not  bushwhack  the  teamsters 
we  shall  send  into  the  woods  after  the  cotton." 


410  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

"  I  suppose  you  have  a  permit  this  time," 
observed  Rodney. 

"  Right  from  headquarters.  We  didn't  ask 
for  military  protection,  and  it  isn't  likely  that 
we  would  have  got  it  if  we  had  ;  but  we  are  at 
liberty  to  take  as  many  bales  of  cotton  through 
the  lines  as  we  can  buy.  General  Banks' 
signature  is  on  our  permit,  and  he  is  supreme 
in  this  Department." 

Before  Mr.  Gray  and  Jack  went  home  that 
night  a  plan  of  operations  had  been  decided 
upon.  The  former  were  to  engage  all  the 
wagons  and  mules  that  could  be  found  in  the 
neighborhood  to  haul  Mr.  Gray's  four  hundred 
bales  to  Baton  Rouge,  while  Rodney  was  to 
seek  an  interview  with  Lambert  and  "  buy  him 
off"  if  he  could.  Rodney  declared  that  he 
had  the  hardest  part  of  the  work  to  do,  and  he 
set  about  it,  not  by  going  into  the  woods  to 
hunt  up  the  ex-Home  Guard,  but  by  riding  to 
the  city  to  ask  the  advice  and  assistance  of  the 
provost  marshal.  As  he  was  about  to  mount 
his  horse  he  said  to  Marcy : 

"  If  that  man  Lambert  comes  here  while  I 
am  gone,  please  tell  him   to  come  again  to- 


SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER.  411 

morrow  morning,  for  I  want  to  see  liim  on  im- 
portant business.  If  you  question  liim  a  little, 
no  doubt  you  will  be  surprised  at  the  extent  of 
liis  information.  Tliere's  little  goes  on  in  tlie 
settlement  that  he  doesn't  know  all  about," 

Rodney's  interview  with  the  marshal  must 
have  been  in  the  highest  degree  satisfactory, 
for  when  he  came  back  at  night  he  was  laugh- 
ing all  over ;  but  his  cousin  Marcy  looked 
troubled. 

"  He's  been  here,"  said  the  latter,  without 
waiting  to  be  questioned,  "  and  he  was  as  im- 
pudent as  you  please." 

"It's  no  more  than  I  expected,"  replied 
Rodney.     "What  did  he   say?" 

"That  them  fellers  might  jest  as  well  give 
Tip  hirin'  teams  to  haul  out  that  cotton  till 
after  you  had  made  some  sort  of  a  bargain 
with   him,"  answered  Marcy. 

"  That's  all  right.  Did  he  say  he'd  come  to- 
morrow? " 

"Yes,  he  said  he  would  be  here  to  listen  to 
what  you  have  to  say,  and  if  you  don't  talk  to 
suit  him  he'll  start  another  bonfire.'* 

"That's    all    right,"    said    Rodney    again. 


412  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

"I  was  afraid  he  might  take  it  ini:o  his  head 
to  start  it  to-night,  in  which  case  I  should  be 
under  the  disagreeable  necessity  of  bushwhack- 
ing him  before  I  slept.  But  if  he  puts  it  off 
till  to-morrow,  he'll  never  set  any  more  bon- 
fires. Did  you  ever  hear  of  such  impudence 
before?" 

For  some  reason  or  other  Rodney  Gray  was 
in  excellent  spirits  that  evening.  He  did  not 
go  to  bed  until  long  after  midnight,  and  when 
he  did,  he  could  not  sleep  for  more  than  ten 
minutes  at  a  time.  But  when  morning  came 
he  sobered  down,  and  his  face  took  on  the 
determined  expression  that  Marcy  had  so  often 
seen  there  during  those  exciting  days  at  the 
Barrington  Academy,  when  Dick  Graham  stole 
the  flag  and  the  Minute-men  burned  Unionists 
out  of  house  and  home.  Just  as  they  arose 
from  the  breakfast  table  Ned  Griffin  threw 
down  the  bars  and  rode  into  the  yard,  and  that 
made  four  resolute  fellows,  counting  in 
Charley  Bowen,  who  were  ready  to  see  Lambert 
and  talk  to  him  about  Mr.  Gray's  cotton. 
They  all  wore  sack  coats,  and  in  each  of  the 
outside  pockets  was  a  loaded  revolver. 


SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER.  413 

"  I  am  afraid  Lambert  will  weaken  when  lie 
sees  this  crowd,"  said  Ned.  "Perhaps  he'll 
not  come  into  the  yard  at  all.  Wouldn't  it 
be  a  good  scheme  for  a  couj)le  of  us  to  go  into 
the  house  out  of  sight?  " 

"  I  don't  think  it  would,"  answered  Rodney. 
"Lambert  knows  how  many  there  are  of  us, 
and  if  he  doesn't  find  us  all  on  the  porch  when 
he  comes  his  suspicions  will  be  aroused.  He'll 
not  come  alone,  you  may  be  certain  of  that." 

And  sure  enough  he  didn't.  When  he  rode 
up  to  the  bars  half  an  hour  later  he  had  two 
companions  with  him,  and  they  all  carried  guns 
on  their  shoulders.  There  was  something  ag- 
gressive in  the  way  they  jerked  out  the  bars 
and  dropped  them  on  the  ground,  and  Rodney 
noticed  that  Lambert  did  not  take  the  trouble 
to  put  them  up  behind  him  as  he  usually  did. 
This  was  the  way  he  took  of  showing  Rodney 
that  he  held  some  power  in  his  hands,  and 
that  he  intended  to  use  it  for  his  own  personal 
ends. 

"What  did  I  tell  you?"  said  the  young 
master  of  the  plantation,  who  was  angry  in  an 
instant.     "  He's  brought  Moseley  and  another 


414  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

long-haired  chap,  whose  name  I  do  not  now 
recall,  and  thinks  he's  going  to  ride  over  me 
rough-shod.  Of  course  he  will  demand  a 
private  interview,  and  I  will  grant  it.  All 
you've  got  to  do  is  to  come  when  you  hear  me 
shoot.  I'll  show  him  that  I  am  in  no  humor 
to  put  up  with  any  more  of  his  nonsense." 

"Don't  run  any  risks,"  cautioned  Marcy. 
"  Your  mother  says  that  Lambert  is  a  danger- 
ous man." 

"I'll  prove  to  you,  before  this  thing  is  over, 
that  he  is  the  biggest  coward  in  the  Confed- 
eracy," replied  Rodney. 

The  near  approach  of  Lambert  and  his 
friends  cut  short  the  conversation.  They  did 
not  get  off  their  mules,  but  rode  straight  up  to 
the  porch  ;  and  then  Rodney  knew  why  they 
left  the  bars  down  behind  them.  Their  bear- 
ing was  insolent,  and  the  first  words  Lambert 
uttered  were  still  more  so. 

"Look  a-here,  Rodney  Gray,"  said  he, 
"I'd  like  to  know  what  them  fellers  mean  by 
goin'  round  the  settlement  hirin'  teams  to  haul 
that  cotton  outen  the  swamp  without  sayin' 
a  word  to  me  about  it." 


SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER.  415 

"I  don't  know  wliy  you  slionlcl  be  con- 
sulted," was  the  quiet  reply.  "Since  when 
has  that   cotton  belonged   to  you?" 

"I've  had  an  intrust  in  it  ever  sence  I  be- 
gan watchin'  it  for  you  an'  your  paw,"  said 
Lambert. 

"You  never  had  an  interest  in  it,  but  my 
father  is  willing  to  pay  you  for  keeping  an  eye 
on  it,  if  we  can  agree  upon  terms." 

"That's  what  I  call  business,"  said  Lam- 
bert, his  face  brightening.  "How  much  you 
will  in'  to  give  ?" 

"  What  are  you  willing  to  take  ?" 

"  I  can't  set  no  figures  till  I  know  how  much 
the  cotton  is  wuth  to  you,"  said  Lambert. 
"How  much   you  goin'  to  get  for  it?" 

"I  can't  tell  until  it  is  sold  in  New  York," 
answered  Rodney,  controlling  his  rising  anger 
with  an  effort. 

"Are  you  tryin'  to  make  me  b'lieve  that 
you  are  goin'  to  let  some  abolitionist  run  that 
cotton  outen  the  country  without  payin'  you 
a  cent  down  for  it !  "  shouted  Lambert.  "  I 
don't  b'lieve  a  word   of  it." 

"  You  needn' t  yell  so.     I  am  not  deaf." 


416  SAILOK  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

"  Then  if  you  aint  you  can  hear  what  I've 
got  to  tell  you,"  said  the  man,  raising  his 
voice  a  full  octave  higher.  "  I  won't  have  no 
more  foolin'.  How  much  you  goin'  to  get  for 
that  cotton  ? " 

"It's  none  of  your  business.  You  under- 
stand  that,  I   suppose?" 

By  this  time  Lambert  had  succeeded  in 
working  himself  into  a  furious  passion,  but  if 
he  had  possessed  ordinary  common  sense  he 
never  Avould  have  done  it.  He  thought  he 
could  frighten  Rodney,  but  should  have  known 
better.  The  boy  sat  tilted  back  in  his  chair, 
with  his  feet  on  the  gallery  railing  and  his 
thumbs  hooked  in  the  armholes  of  his  vest, 
and  his  very  attitude  ought  to  have  warned 
the  ex-Home  Guard  that  he  was  treading  on 
dangerous  ground,  and  that  there  was  a  point 
beyond  which  Rodney  would  not  be  driven. 
The  latter' s  reply  to  his  insolent  question 
capped  the   climax. 

"  Whoop  !  "  yelled  Lambert,  flourishing  his 
rifle  above  his  head.  "It  aint  none  of  my 
business,  aint  it  ?  I'll  make  it  my  business  to 
make  a  beggar  of  you  this  very  night.    I'll 


SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TEADER.  417 

send  that  cotton  of  yourn  where  I  sent  Ran- 
dolph's to  pay  that  no-account  boy  of  his'n 
for  shakin'   his  sword  at  me." 

"You  have  fully  made  up  your  mind  to 
burn  my  father's  cotton,  have  you?"  said 
Rodney. 

"Yes,  I  have.  It  shan't  never  be  hauled 
outen  them  woods  less'n  I  get  fifty  cents  a 
pound,  cash  in  hand,  for  it.  That  Yankee 
cousin  of  yourn  is  goin'  to  run  it  up  North  an' 
get  a  dollar  for  it.  I  heered  all  about  it  an' 
you  needn't  think  to  fool  me.  Will  you  give 
it  or  not?" 

"  I  certainly  will  not." 

"  You  hearn  what  he  says,  boys,"  said  Lam- 
bert to  his  companions.  "  I  always  said  that 
this  was  a  rich  man's  war  an'  a  poor  man's 
fight,  didn't  I;  an'  now  you  see  it  for  your- 
selves, don't  you  %  Let's  go  right  back  to  the 
woods  an'  set  her  a-goin'." 

"Bang!"  said  one  of  Rodney's  revolvers, 
and  to  Marcy's  inexpressible  horror  Lambert 
dropped  his  rifle  and  fell  headlong  from  his 
mule,  which  set  up  a  sonorous  bray  and 
started  for  the  bars  at  top  speed.  "Bang  I  " 
27 


418  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

said  the  other  revolver  an  instant  later,  and 
Moseley  let  go  his  hold  upon  his  gun  and 
clung  to  his  mule  with  both  hands.  The  re- 
sult of  the  next  shot  was  still  more  terrifying. 
The  third  man  made  a  frantic  effort  to  turn 
his  beast  toward  the  bars  ;  but  before  he  could 
put  him  in  motion  a  bullet  passed  through  the 
mule's  head,  and  he  and  his  rider  came  to  the 
ground  together.  It  was  done  in  much  less 
time  than  it  takes  to  tell  it.  Rodney's  com- 
panions jumped  to  their  feet,  but  before  they 
could  draw  their  weapons  it  was  all  over. 

"Rodney,  Rodney,  what  have  you  done?" 
cried  Marcy  in  great  alarm. 

"I  have  simply  proved  my  words,"  replied 
his  cousin,  walking  leisurely  down  the  steps, 
pushing  his  revolver  into  his  pocket  as  he 
went.  "Did  I  not  say,"  he  added,  picking 
up  the  three  guns,  one  after  the  other,  and  fir- 
ing their  contents  into  the  air,  "  that  I  would 
show  Lambert  to  be  the  biggest  coward  in  the 
Confederacy?  Get  up,  here.  It's  my  turn  to 
be  sassy  now.     Moseley,  dismount." 

Moseley  obeyed  with  alacrity,  and  at  the 
same  time  Lambert  raised  himself  on  his  elbow 


SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TEADER.  419 

and  gazed  about  Mm  with  a  bewildered  air. 
Then  he  felt  of  his  head,  and  examined  his 
hand  to  see  if  there  was  blood  upon  it.  The 
third  man  could  not  move  without  assistance, 
for  the  mule  had  fallen  upon  his  leg  and 
pinned  him  to  the  ground. 

"  Get  up,"  repeated  Rodney,  taking  Lam- 
bert by  the  arm  and  helping  him  rather 
roughly  to  his  feet.  "Now  you  and  Moseley 
sit  down  on  the  steps  till  I  am  ready  to  talk 
to  you.     Lend  a  hand  here,  a  couple  of  you," 

Hardly  able  to  realize  what  had  taken  place 
before  their  eyes,  Rodney's  companions 
hastened  down  the  steps  to  roll  the  dead  mule 
off  his  rider,  so  that  the  man  could  get  up. 
When  he  was  placed  upon  his  feet  he  was 
found  to  be  so  weak  from  fright  that  he  could 
scarcely  stand  ;  so  Marcy  and  Ned  helped  him 
to  a  seat  on  the  steps.  Then  they  stood  back 
and  looked  closely  at  Lambert  and  Moseley. 
Their  faces  were  very  white,  and  Lambert  was 
covered  with  dust  from  head  to  foot,  but  there 
wasn't  the  sign  of  a  wound  on  either  of  them. 
It  was  bewildering. 

"Mister  Rodney,"  ventured  Lambert,  when 


420  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TEADER. 

lie  Lad  made  sure  that  lie  was  still  alive  and 
liad  the  use  of  his  tongue,  "  I  hope  you  don't 
bear  me  no  grudge  for  them  words  I  spoke  to 
you  a  while  ago." 

"Oh,  no,"  replied  Rodney  cheerfully. 
"But  you  have  had  your  say,  and  I  can't 
waste  any  more  time  with  you  now.  Moseley, 
I  believe  you  would  be  a  harmless  sort  of  rebel 
if  you  were  out  of  Lambert's  company." 

"Yes,  I  would,  sail,"  whimpered  the  hog 
thief.  *' Every  bit  of  meanness  I  have  done 
was  all  owin'   to  him,  sah." 

"Jest  listen  at  the  f  ule  !  "  exclaimed  Lam- 
bert. 

"Consequently  I  think  I  will  let  you  and 
your  friend  here — what's  his  name?" 

"  Longworth,  sail  ;  Joe  Longworth,"  replied 
the  owner  of  the  name. 

"Ah,  yes!  I  know  you  now.  I  believe  I 
will  let  you  two  off  on  one  condition.  Wait 
until  I  get  through!"  cried  Rodney,  turning 
fiercely  upon  Lambert,  who  had  made  several 
attempts  to  interrupt  him.  "  You  did  lots  of 
talking  a  little  while  back,  and  now  it's  my 
turn.     That  condition  is,  Moseley,  that  you 


SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER.  421 

take  your  gang  out  of  the  woods  and  keep  it 
out  from  this  time  on,  unless  I  tell  you  to 
take  it  back." 

"I'll  do  it,  sah,"  said  Moseley  earnestly. 
"  Sure's  you  live " 

"He  can't.  Mister  Rodney,"  exclaimed 
Lambert.  "  There  aint  nobody  but  me  can  do 
that,  kase  I'm  the  captain  of  'em." 

"  You're  not  the  captain  of  them  any  longer. 
They  will  have  to  elect  someone  to  take  your 
place,  for  you  are  going  to  start  for  Baton 
Rouge  in  less  than  fifteen   minutes." 

When  Lambert  heard  this  he  almost  fell  off 
the  step  on  which  he  was  sitting.  Without 
giving  him  time  to  recover  himself  sufficiently 
to  utter  a  protest,  Rodney  again  addressed  ex- 
Lieutenant  Moseley. 

"  If  you  will  do  that,  you  can  go  to  my 
father  after  our  cotton  has  been  shipped,  and 
he  will  give  each  of  you  some  money,"  said 
Rodney.  ' '  I  don' t  know  how  much,  but  it  will 
be  a  larger  sum  than  you  ever  owned  before  at 
one  time.     It  will  be  good  money,  too," 

"  Say,  Mister  Rodney,"  faltered  Lambert, 
"what's  the  reason  I  can't  have  a  share?" 


422  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

"Bat  if  you  don't  do  it,"  continued  Rod- 
ney, "if  you  interfere  in  any  way  with  the 
teamsters  who  will  go  into  the  swamp  to- 
morrow to  haul  that  cotton  out,  the  last  one 
of  you  will  be  hunted  down  and  shot,  or  sent 
to  a  Northern  prison  to  keep  company  with 
Lambert.  How  many  did  you  leave  behind 
when  you   came   here?" 

"  Four,  sah,"  replied  Moseley. 

"  Only  seven  of  you  altogether  !  "  exclaimed 
Rodney.  "Well,  I  think  I  can  promise  you 
a  hundred  dollars  apiece  in  greenbacks,  and 
that  will  be  equal  to  six  or  eight  hundred  dol- 
lars  in  Confederate  scrip." 

Moseley' s  eyes  glistened  and  so  did  Long- 
worth's  ;  but  Lambert's  grew  dim  with  tears, 
and  his  face  was  a  sight  to  behold.  The  man 
had  less  courage  than  Rodney  gave  him  credit 
for,  and  the  boy  wondered  what  his  mother 
would  think  of  this  "dangerous"  person  if 
she  could  see  him  now.  He  couldn'  t  even  talk, 
and  Rodney  was  glad  of  it,  for  he  wanted  to 
finish  his  instructions  to  Moseley  and  take 
down  the  names  of  his  companions  without 
being  interrupted. 


SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER.  423 

"Longwortli,  is  that  your  beast?"  said 
Rodney,  with  a  nod  toward  the  dead  mule. 
"I  am  sorry  I  had  to  shoot  him,  and  I 
shouldn't  have  done  it  if  you  hadn't  tried  to 
run  off.  When  you  are  ready  to  come  out  of 
the  woods  and  put  in  a  crop,  I  will  give  you 
another  and  better  one  to  take  his  place  ;  but 
I'll  not  furnish  you  anything  to  ride  as  long 
as  you  are  playing  bushwhacker." 

After  a  little  more  conversation,  and  before 
Lambert  had  recovered  from  the  stupor  into 
which  he  had  been  thrown  by  Rodney's 
ominous  words,  Moseley  and  Longwortli 
started  for  the  swamp  to  spread  consternation 
among  their  companions  by  telling  what  a 
desperate  fighter  the  young  overseer  was  when 
aroused,  and  what  terrible  things  he  had 
threatened  to  do  if  his  demands  were  not  com- 
plied with,  while  Rodney  and  his  cousin  went 
into  the  house,  leaving  Ned  and  Bowen  to 
watch  the  prisoner. 

"I  don't  see  how  you  could  bring  yourself 
to  do  it,"  said  Marcy. 

"Do  it!  Do  what?"  replied  Rodney 
innocently. 


424  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

"  I  tliought  sure  you  Lad  killed  Lambert 
and  wounded  Moseley,  and  when  I  saw  Long- 
worth  come  to  the  ground  as  if  he  had  been 
struck  by  lightning " 

"That's  nothing,"  laughed  Rodney.  "If 
you  could  see  a  platoon  of  cavalry  floored  as 
quickly  as  he  was,  perhaps  you  would  open 
your  eyes.  As  to  Lambert,  I  didn't  shoot 
within  a  foot  of  his  head,  although  I  shoved 
my  revolver  so  close  to  his  face  that  the  smoke 
went  into  his  eyes  and  blinded  him  for  a 
minute  or  two.  I  shot  even  wider  of  the  mark 
when  I  pulled  on  Moseley,  and  no  doubt  he 
dropped  his  gun  because  Lambert  did.  It  was 
not  my  intention  to  touch  either  one  of  them. 
I  thought  it  would  be  a  good  plan  to  let  them 
understand  who  they  were  fooling  with  and 
what  I  could  do  if  I  set  about  it.  But  I  meant 
to  hit  that  mule.  Now,  will  you  ride  to  Baton 
Rouge  with  me?" 

"  Of  course  I  will ;  but  you  are  not  going  to 
send  Lambert  up  North  ?  " 

"That  is  a  matter  with  which  I  have  noth- 
ing to  do,  but  beyond  a  doubt  it's  where  Lam- 
bert will  bring  up  before  he  is  many  weeks 


SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER.  425 

older.  As  soon  as  it  becomes  known  tliat  lie 
is  in  the  hands  of  the  Yanks,  the  Union  peo- 
ple he  persecuted  so  outrageously,  while  Tom 
Randolph  was  captain  of  the  Home  Guards, 
will  prefer  charges  against  him,  and  that  will 
be  bad  for  Lambert." 

"  I  wish  you  thought  it  safe  to  let  him  go," 
said  Marcy,  who  could  not  bear  to  see  anyone 
in  trouble. 

"  But  I  don't,  you  see.  Of  course  he  would 
make  all  sorts  of  promises,  but  he'd  burn  that 
cotton  of  ours  as  soon  as  he  could  get  to  it." 

When  the  events  we  have  just  described  be- 
came known  in  the  settlement,  they  created 
almost  as  much  excitement  as  did  the  news  of 
the  firing  upon  Sumter,  but  of  course  it  was  a 
different  sort  of  excitement.  The  Union  men 
whom  Lambert  had  robbed  and  abused  went 
into  the  city  by  dozens  to  bear  testimony 
against  him,  and  then  hastened  home  to  repair 
their  wagons  and  harness  so  that  they  could 
earn  the  four  dollars  a  day,  "greenback 
money,"  that  Sailor  Jack  offered  them  for 
hauling  out  his  uncle's  cotton.  Everyone 
who  had  cotton  to  sell  and  teams  for  hire, 


426  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

witli  one  exception,  was  liappy  ;  and  that  ex- 
ception was  Mr,  Randol]3h,  who  was  the  most 
miserable  man  in  the  State.  He  had  not  only- 
lost  the  most  of  his  cotton  (he  had  about 
twenty  bales  that  Jack  said  he  would  buy), 
but  since  Lambert's  arrest  he  had  learned  why 
he  lost  it.  That  was  a  matter  which  Tom  de- 
sired above  all  things  to  keep  from  his  father's 
knowledge  ;  but  Lambert  had  told  all  he  knew 
about  him  in  the  hope  that,  if  he  were  sent  to 
prison,  his  old  captain  would  have  to  go  with 
him.  Tom  himself  had  some  fears  on  this 
score,  but  thus  far  no  one  in  the  settlement 
had  thought  it  worth  while  to  trouble  him. 
Such  treatment  as  that  made  Tom  angry. 

"Nobody  pays  any  more  attention  to  me 
than  if  I  was  a  stump-tailed  yellow  dog,"  he 
complained  to  his  mother,  who  was  the  only 
friend  he  had  in  the  world.  "Father  will 
scarcely  speak  when  I  am  around,  and  when 
I  go  to  town,  the  men  who  used  to  go  out 
of  their  way  to  salute  me  and  say  '  Good- 
morning,  Captain  Randolph,'  won't  look  at 
me.     It  wasn't  so   when  we  were  rich." 

"That  is  true,"   assented  his  mother.     "I 


SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER.  427 

have  always  heard,  it  said  that  one's  pocket- 
book  is  one's  best  friend,  and  I  believe  it. 
Tommy,  don't  you  think,  if  you  could  fix  up 
a  wagon  and  earn  a  little  money,  it  would 
be  better  than  idling  away  your  time  doing 
nothing?" 

"And  drive  crow-bait  mules  and  work  for 
Rodney  Gray?"  exclaimed  Tom.  "Mother, 
I  am  surprised  at  you.  Think  what  a  come- 
down that  would  be  for  one  who  has  been  a 
captain  in  the  Confederate  service ! " 

Mrs.  Randolph  did  not  say  that  it  would 
have  been  a  good  thing  for  the  captain  if  he 
had  been  content  to  remain  a  civilian,  but  she 
thought  so. 

There  were  others  in  the  neighborhood  who 
had  never  performed  any  manual  labor,  rich 
planters  before  the  war,  who  had  nothing  to  do 
but  spend  the  money  their  slaves  made  for 
them,  but  they  did  not  talk  as  Tom  did.  They 
took  off  their  coats  and  went  to  work,  and 
never  stopped  to  see  whether  the  shoulder  that 
was  under  the  opposite  side  of  a  cotton  bale 
belonged  to  a  white  man  or  a  negro.  Rodney 
Gray,    who    superintended   the    work   while 


428  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

Sailor  Jack  went  to  New  Orleans  to  charter  a 
river  steamer,  paid  tliem  tlieir  greenbacks  every 
night,  and  tlie  planters  took  tliem  home  and 
hid  them  for  fear  that  a  squad  of  rebel  cavalry- 
might  make  a  night  raid  into  the  settlement 
and  steal  them.  Jack  did  not  ask  for  military 
protection,  but  he  had  it,  for  every  day  or 
two  a  company  of  Federal  troopers  galloped 
through  the  country,  ready  to  do  battle 
with  any  "  Johnnies"  who  might  try  to  inter- 
fere with  the  work.  Rodney  was  always  glad 
to  see  them.  He  knew  that  the  Confederate 
authorities  would  not  permit  that  cotton  to  be 
shipped  if  they  could  prevent  it,  and  he  never 
left  it  unguarded.  Moseley  and  his  five  com- 
panions were  in  his  pay,  and  earned  two  dollars 
a  night  by  holding  themselves  ready  at  all 
times  to  drive  off  any  marauders  who  might 
try  to  burn  it.  On  one  memorable  night  they 
proved  their  worth  and  earned  five  times  that 
amount.  Moseley,  who  seemed  to  have  grown 
several  inches  taller  since  Rodney  last  saw 
him,  proudly  reported  that  he  had  had  a 
regular  pitched  battle  about  three  o'clock 
that  morning,   and  that  he   had  driven    the 


SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER.  429 

enemy  from  the  field  in  such  confusion  that 
they  left  their  wounded  behind  them.  And, 
what  was  more  to  the  point,  he  produced  three 
injured  rebels  to  show  that  he  told  nothing 
but  the  truth. 

By  the  time  Sailor  Jack  returned  with  the 
steamer  he  had  chartered,  Mr.  Gray's  cotton 
was  all  on  the  levee  at  Baton  Rouge  awaiting 
shipment  to  New  Orleans,  and  Rodney's  teams 
were  hard  at  work  hauling  in  Mr.  Walker's. 
By  this  time,  too,  everyone  in  the  southwestern 
part  of  the  State  knew  what  was  going  on  at 
Mooreville,  and  Union  men  and  rebels,  living 
as  far  away  as  the  Pearl  River  bottoms,  came 
to  Jack  and  begged,  with  tears  in  their  eyes, 
that  he  would  take  their  cotton  also  and  save 
them  from  utter  ruin.  Jack  assured  them 
that  he  would  be  glad  to  buy  every  bale,  pro- 
vided they  would  jDut  it  Avhere  he  could  get 
hold  of  it  without  running  the  risk  of  being 
bushwhacked  ;  but  there  was  the  trouble.  The 
guerillas  became  very  active  all  on  a  sudden, 
and  almost  every  morning  someone  would 
report  to  Rodney  that  he  "  seen  a  light  on  the 
clouds  over  that-a-way,  and  jedged  that  some 


430  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

poor  chap  had  been  losin'  cotton  the  night 
afore."  On  one  or  two  occasions  Rodney  saw 
such  lights  on  the  sky,  and  if  his  heart  was 
filled  with  sympathy  for  the  planter  who  was 
being  ruined  by  the  wanton  destruction  of  his 
property,  there  was  still  room  enough  in  it  for 
gratitude  to  his  sailor  cousin,  through  whose 
manoeuvring  his  father  had  been  saved  from  a 
similar  fate. 

Jack  Gray  was  a  ''  hustler,"  and  he  "hus- 
tled" his  men  to  such  good  purpose  that  in 
ten  days  more  his  chartered  steamer  was 
loaded  to  her  guards,  and  Mr.  Gray  and  a  few 
of  his  neighbors  were  rich  and  happy,  while 
Kodney  was  very  miserable  and  unhappy,  for 
his  cousin  and  Charley  Bowen  were  going 
away.  Jack  had  been  told  to  take  Marcy  home 
with  him,  and  Jack's  rule  was  to  obey  orders 
if  he  broke  owners.  Anxious  to  remain  with 
Marcy  as  long  as  he  could,  Rodney  accom- 
panied him  to  New  Orleans  and  saw  his  father's 
cotton  loaded  into  the  Hyperion'' s  hold.  A 
few  days  afterward  he  waved  his  farewell  to 
Marcy  as  the  swift  vessel  bore  him  down  the 
river,  and  then  turned  his  face  homeward  to 


SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TEADER.  431 

wait  for  Grant  and  Banks  to  open  tlie  Missis- 
sippi. But  his  patience  was  sadly  tested,  for 
it  was  not  until  July  4  that  Grant's  army 
marched  into  Yicksburg.  After  an  active  cam- 
paign of  eighty  days  the  modest  man  who  after- 
ward commanded  all  the  Union  armies  "gained 
one  of  the  most  important  and  stupendous  vic- 
tories of  the  war,"  inflicting  upon  the  enemy  a 
loss  of  ten  thousand  in  killed  and  wounded, 
capturing  twenty-seven  thousand  prisoners,  two 
hundred  guns,  and  small  arms  and  munitions 
of  war  sufficient  for  an  army  of  sixty  thousand 
men.  General  Banks  took  possession  of  Port 
Hudson  on  the  9th,  and  no  Northern  boy 
shouted  louder  than  Rodney  Gray  did  when 
he  heard  of  it.  The  river  was  open  at  last, 
and  Jack  Gray  and  his  trading  boat  could 
make  their  appearance  as  soon  as  they 
pleased. 

But  this  was  not  all  the  glorious  news  that 
Rodney  heard  about  that  time.  On  the  3d  of 
July,  at  Cemetery  Ridge  in  far-off  Pennsyl- 
vania, there  had  been  a  desperate  charge  of 
fifteen  thousand  men  and  a  bloody  rej)ulse 
that  "marked  the  culmination  of  the  Confed- 


432  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

erate  power."  When  General  Lee  saw  Pick- 
ett's lines  and  Anderson's  fading  away  before 
tlie  terrible  fire  of  the  Union  infantry,  he  also 
saw  "  the  fading  away  of  all  hope  of  recogni- 
tion by  the  government  of  Great  Britain.  The 
iron-clad  war  vessels,  constrncted  with  Con- 
federate money  by  British  ship-bnilders  and 
intended  for  tlie  dispersion  of  the  Union  fleets 
blockading  Wilmington  and  Charleston,  and 
which  were  supposed  to  be  powerful  enough 
to  send  the  monitors,  one  by  one,  to  the  bot- 
tom of  the  sea,  were  prevented  from  leaving 
English  ports  by  order  of  the  British  govern- 
ment" ;  but  if  Pickett's  charge  had  been  suc- 
cessful, those  iron-clads  would  have  sailed  in 
less  than  a  week,  and  France  and  England, 
who  were  waiting  to  see  what  would  come  of 
the  invasion  of  Pennsylvania,  would  have 
recognized  the  Confederacy.  It  is  no  wonder 
that  General  Lee's  soldiers  fought  hard  for 
victory  when  they  knew  there  was  so  much 
depending  upon  it.  The  boys  in  blue  who 
whipped  them  at  Cemetery  Ridge  are  deserv- 
ing of  all  honor. 
We  must  not  forget  to  say  that  before  these 


SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER.  433 

things  happened  Sailor  Jack  ran  up  from  'New 
Orleans  to  tell  what  he  had  done  with  Marcy, 
and  to  make  a  settlement  with  his  uncle. 

"I've  made  a  successful  trip,"  said  he  glee- 
fully, "and.  Uncle  Rodney,  you  have  that 
much  to  your  credit  in  the  Chemical  Bank  of 
New  York." 

As  he  said  this  he  handed  Mr.  Gray  a  cer- 
tificate of  deposit  calling  for  a  sum  of  money 
so  large  that  Rodney  opened  his  eyes  in 
amazement. 

"Of  course  I  had  to  take  Marcy  to  New 
York  with  me,"  continued  Jack,  "but  two 
days  after  we  got  there  Captain  Frazier  found 
a  Union  storeship  that  was  about  to  sail  with 
provisions  for  the  blockading  fleet ;  and  as 
she  had  a  lot  of  mail  and  stuff  aboard  for  Cap- 
tain Flusser,  whom  I  knew  to  be  serving  on 
the  Miami  in  Albemarle  Sound,  I  managed  to 
obtain  permission  for  Marcy  to  take  passage 
on  her,  believing  that  if  he  could  reach  the 
Jliami  he  could  also  reach  Plymouth,  and 
from  there  it  would  be  easy  for  him  to  get 
home.  I  expect  to  find  a  letter  from  him 
when  I  return  to  New  York,  and  he  also  prom- 
28 


434  SAILOK  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

ised  to  write  you  in  care  of  the  provost  mar- 
shal at  Baton  Rouge." 

There  was  one  thing  Jack  did  before  he  Avent 
back  to  New  Orleans  that  at  first  disgusted 
Rodney  Gray,  though  he  was  afterward  very 
glad  of  it.  He  paid  over  to  Mr.  Randolph 
every  dollar  his  twenty  bales  sold  for  in  New 
York,  not  even  deducting  the  Hyperion's 
freight  bill,  so  that  unfortunate  gentleman 
was  not  quite  as  badly  off  as  he  thought.  He 
had  a  little  money  with  which  to  make  a  new 
start  when  the  war  ended. 


CHAPTER  XYII. 

CONCLUSION. 

ONE  of  tlie  most  soul-stirring  scenes  that 
Rodney  Gray  ever  witnessed  occurred  a 
short  time  subsequent  to  the  fall  of  Vicksburg. 
He  and  his  father  and  Ned  Griffin  stood  on 
the  Baton  Rouge  levee  and  saw  the  steamer 
Imperial  dash  by  on  her  way  to  New  Orleans. 
The  swift  vessel,  which  came  from  St.  Louis, 
moved  as  if  she  were  a  living  thing  and  knew 
that  she  was  speaking  not  only  to  the  Confed- 
eracy, but  to  the  world.  To  the  Confederates 
she  said  that  the  last  vestige  of  their  power 
and  authority  had  disappeared  from  the  Mis- 
sissippi forever  ;  that  its  waters  were  free  to 
the  commerce  of  the  great  West,  which  should 
nevermore  be  interrupted.  And  to  France  and 
England,  who  had  been  hoping  and  plotting 
for  our  downfall,  she  said  that  "thenceforth 
the  country  was  to  be  one  nation,  under  one 
flag,  with  Liberty  and  Union  forever.'* 

435 


436  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

Exciting  and  interesting  events  happened 
rai^idly  after  that,  but  we  can  touch  upon  but 
few  of  them,  for  our  "War  Series"  ought  to 
end  with  the  war  record  of  the  characters 
that  have  appeared  in  it.  Rodney,  who  was 
waiting  impatiently  for  Sailor  Jack  to  make 
his  appearance,  spent  the  most  of  his  time  on 
the  Baton  Rouge  levee,  so  as  to  be  the  first  to 
welcome  him  when  he  came  up  with  his  trad- 
ing boat.  On  one  memorable  night  he  reached 
home  after  dark,  as  he  usually  did,  put  his 
horse  into  the  stable-yard,  and  went  into  the 
house  ;  and  there,  just  as  we  found  him  on 
a  former  occasion,  seated  in  Rodney's  own 
rocking-chair,  with  his  feet  resting  upon  the 
back  of  another  and  a  book  in  his  hand, 
was  Dick  Graham.  When  Rodney  entered 
the  room  Dick  merely  turned  his  head 
slightly  and  looked  at  him  as  he  might 
have  done  if  they  had  parted  an  hour  or 
two  before. 

"  I  always  knew  you  had  cheek,"  exclaimed 
Rodney,  as  soon  as  he  could  speak.  "  Dick, 
old  boy,  how  are  you  ?  " 

"  Pretty  and  well,    thank  you,"   answered 


CONCLUSION.  437 

Dick,  dropping  the  book  and  jumping  to  his 
feet. 

We  shall  not  attempt  to  describe  that  meet- 
ing, for  we  could  not  do  it  justice.  Just  con- 
sider that  they  have  got  through  gushing  over 
each  other,  and  that  they  are  sitting  down 
quietly,  talking  like  veterans  who  have  seen 
fifteen  months  of  the  hardest  kind  of  service. 

"I  don't  know  how  I  missed  seeing  you," 
said  Rodney,  "fori  was  on  the  levee  almost 
all  day  yesterday,  and  saw  every  boat  that 
came  in.  How  did  you  get  home  ?  and  where 
did  you  leave  your  folks  ?  " 

"I  got  home  easy  enough,  and  left  the 
folks  in  St.  Louis.  My  discharge  from 
Bragg' s  army  put  me  on  the  right  side  of  both 
rebs  and  Yanks,  and  the  money  you  so  gener- 
erously  provided  brought  me  all  the  grub  I 
wanted.  I  found  the  folks  at  home,  but  they 
didn't  remain  there  long  after  I  joined  them, 
for  there  was  almost  too  much  guerilla  war- 
fare going  on  in  Kansas  and  western  Missouri 
to  make  it  pleasant  for  non-combatants.  So 
we  dug  out  for  St.  Louis,  and  we've  been  there 
ever  since.    I  couldn't  get  a  letter  to  you,  but 


438  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

I  knew  I  could  come  myself  as  soon  as  the 
river  was  opened,  and  here  I  am.  A  pass 
from  the  provost  marshal  took  me  through 
the  lines,  and  Mr.  Turnbull  was  kind  enough 
to  hitch  up  a  team  and  bring  me  to  your 
father's  house,  where  I  stopped  last  night.  I 
heard  some  astonishing  stories  about  Marcy 
and  that  sailor  brother  of  his,  and  am  sorry 
indeed  that  Marcy  has  gone  home  to  stay.  I 
should  like  much  to  see  him." 

"And  he  would  be  delighted  to  see  you, 
but  I  don't  look  for  him  until  this  trouble  is 
all  over.  Sailor  Jack  is  liable  to  come  along 
any  day;  and  Dick,  we'll  go  with  him  and 
help  him  buy  cotton." 

"  Oh,  you  needn't  think  that  you  and  Jack 
are  going  to  have  a  picnic,"  replied  Dick 
with  a  smile.  "  I  talked  with  some  of  the 
officers  of  the  boat  on  my  way  down,  and  they 
seemed  to  think  that  Uncle  Sam's  tin-clads 
will  have  all  they  can  do  to  keej)  the  river 
clear  of  guerillas.  They'll  not  let  traders 
take  cotton  out  of  the  country  if  they  can 
help  it." 

It  goes  without  saying  that  in  Dick  Gra- 


COl^CLUSION.  439 

ham's  compaTiy  Rodney  was  almost  as  happy 
as  he  desired  to  be.  He  was  blessed  with  per- 
fect health,  his  family  had  in  a  great  measure 
escaped  the  horrors  of  war  which  fell  to  the 
lot  of  so  many  others,  there  was  no  cotton  in 
the  woods  for  him  to  worry  over,  the  man 
Lambert,  who  was  a  thorn  in  his  side  for  so 
many  months,  had  been  sent  to  Camp  Douglas 
for  his  merciless  persecution  of  the  Union  peo- 
ple in  the  settlement,  his  father's  check  was 
good  at  the  bank  for  a  larger  amount  than  it 
had  ever  been  before,  and  one  of  the  few  things 
Rodney  had  to  wish  for  now  was  that  the 
war  might  end  with  the  battle  of  Gettysburg. 
Many  brave  soldiers  on  both  sides  declared 
that  would  have  been  the  result  of  the  fight 
if  the  arrogance  of  Jeff  Davis  had  not  stood 
in  the  way.  He  continued  to  slaughter  men 
and  desolate  homes  in  the  vain  effort  to  make 
himself  the  head  of  a  new  nation.  Great  bat- 
tles were  yet  to  be  fought  to  satisfy  one  man's 
ambition  and  desire  for  power.  Hood's  army 
of  forty-five  thousand  men  was  to  be  annihi- 
lated at  Nashville,  and  Sherman's  march  to 
the    sea    accomplished   before   the    "day  of 


440  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

Appomattox"     dawned    upon    tlie    country. 
And  Sailor  Jack  was  to  try  his  hand  at  being; 
a  trader. 

He  made  his  appearance  about  a  week  after 
Dick  Graham  did,  and  quite  as  unexpectedly, 
and  so  the  boys  were  not  on  the  levee  to  meet 
him.  He  secured  a  pass  from  the  provost 
marshal,  borrowed  a  horse,  and  rode  out  to  his 
uncle's  jDlantation.  Dick  Graham  had  never 
seen  him  before,  but  when  he  got  through 
shaking  hands  he  was  willing  to  believe  that 
the  sailor  was  glad  to  make  his  acquaintance. 

"If  I  do  say  it  myself  I  think  I  am  well 
equipped  for  the  business,"  said  Jack  in  re- 
sponse to  Rodney's  inquiries.  "My  boat  is 
the  Venango,  which  is  guaranteed  to  carry  a 
full  deck-load  on  a  heavy  deAv,  my  officers  are 
all  river  men  and  my  deck-hands  whites  ;  for 
I  wasn't  going  to  take  darkies  among  the: 
rebels  to  be  captured  and  sent  back  into 
slavery." 

"Why,  Jack,"  said  Mrs.  Gray,  "you  talk 
as  if  you  were  going  into  danger." 

"  Well,  I  am  not  as  sanguine  of  keeping  out 
of  it  as  I  was  a  few  weeks  ago,"  said  the  sailor. 


CONCLUSION.  441 

"  If  I  can  hold  fast  to  the  Venango  until  I  can 
load  up  the  Hyperion  twice,  I  shall  think  my- 
self lucky.  And  I  shall  make  a  good  thing 
out  of  it  besides." 

Mr.  Gray  did  not  raise  any  objections  when 
Rodney  and  Dick  made  ready  to  accompany 
Jack  to  Baton  Rouge  on  the  following  morn- 
ing, for  he  knew  that  if  he  were  a  boy  he 
would  want  to  go  himself.  He  went  with  them 
to  the  city,  and  stood  on  the  levee  when  the 
Venango  backed  away  from  it  and  turned  her 
head  up  the  river.  When  the  boys  could  no 
longer  distinguish  him  among  the  crowd  which 
had  assembled  to  see  them  off,  they  went  into 
the  cabin  that  Jack  occujiied  in  common  with 
the  river  captain  whom  he  had  hired  to  run 
the  vessel,  and  sat  down  to  wait  for  dinner. 

"  This  looks  to  me  like  hunting  for  a  needle 
in  a  haystack,"  said  Rodney.  "How  are  you 
going  to  manage  ?  Do  you  intend  to  keep  on 
up  the  river  until  someone  hails  you  with  the 
information  that  he  has  cotton  to  sell  ? " 

"Not  precisely,"  laughed  Jack.  "We 
don't  do  business  in  that  uncertain  way.  My 
first  landing  will  be  at  a  plantation  ten  miles 


442  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

above  Bayou  Sara,  if  you  know  where  that  is, 
and  there  I  hope  to  find  cotton  enough  to  load 
this  boat  about  four  times." 

"  Why,  how  did  you  hear  of  it  ? " 

"  I  received  my  orders  from  our  agent  in 
New  Orleans,  if  that  is  what  you  mean  ;  but 
how  he  heard  of  it  I  don't  know,  and  didn't 
think  to  inquire.  I  wish  this  steamer  was 
four  times  bigger  than  she  is." 

"  Why  didn't  you  charter  a  large  one  while 
you  were  about  it  ?  " 

"I  couldn't,  for  their  owners  were  too  anx- 
ious to  have  them  go  back  to  their  regular 
trade,  which  has  so  long  been  interrupted  by 
the  blockade  at  Yicksburg.  They  can  make 
more  money  at  it." 

After  dinner  had  been  served  and  eaten  in 
what  had  once  been  the  Venango's  passenger 
cabin,  but  which  was  now  given  over  to  the  use 
of  the  officers  of  the  boat,  the  boys  walked  out 
on  the  boiler-deck  and  saw  a  stern-wheeler 
coming  toward  them  with  a  big  bone  in  her 
teeth.  She  was  painted  a  sort  of  dirt  color 
that  did  not  show  very  plainly  against  the 
background  of  the  high  bank  she  was  passing. 


CONCLUSION.  443 

and  it  was  a  long  time  before  tlie  boys  conld 
make  her  out ;  but  tliey  told  each  other  that 
she  was  the  oddest  looking  craft  they  had  ever 
seen.  She  had  no  "  Texas  "  (that  is  the  name 
given  to  the  cabin  in  which  the  officers  sleep), 
and  her  pilot  house  stood  on  the  roof  of  her 
passenger  cabin.  Her  main  deck  was  not  open 
like  the  Venango' s,  but  was  inclosed  with 
casemates  provided  with  port-holes,  two  in  the 
bow  and  three  on  the  side  that  was  turned  to- 
ward them.  She  was  following  the  channel  in 
the  right  of  the  bend  while  the  light-draft 
trading  boat  was  holding  across  the  point  of 
the  bar  on  the  oj^posite  side,  so  that  there  was 
the  width  of  the  river  between  them  ;  but  when 
they  came  abreast  of  each  other,  the  stranger's 
bow  began  swinging  around,  and  in  a  few  min- 
utes she  was  running  back  up  the  Mississippi 
in  company  with  the  Venango^  and  only  a  few 
rods  astern. 

"She  must  be  one  of  the  mosquito  fleet— a 
tin-clad,"  exclaimed  Dick.  "They  say  the 
river  is  full  of  them,  but  I  didn't  happen  to 
see  one  on  my  way  down.  She  and  her  kind 
are  intended  to  fight  guerillas." 


444  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

"That's  what  she  is,"  said  Jack,  "And 
she's  the   first   I  ever  saw." 

"  But  what  is  she  following  ns  for  ?  "  asked 
Rodney.  "Perhaps  she  wants  to  see  your 
papers." 

"Then  why  doesn't  she  whistle  five  times 
to  let  me  know  that  she  wants  to  commun- 
icate?" answered  Jack.  "She  is  giving  us  a 
convoy." 

"It's  very  kind  of  Admiral  Porter,  or  who- 
ever it  was  told  her  to  do  it,"  said  Rodney. 
"If  we  are  to  be  protected  in  this  way  we 
shall  never  have  anything  to  fear  from  guer- 
illas. She  has  six  broadside  guns,  two  bow- 
chasers,  and  a  field  howitzer  on  her  roof,  nine 
in  all.     She  ought  to  make  a  good  fight." 

"  Oh,  she  will  do  well  enough  for  guer- 
illas," said  Jack,  "but  how  long  do  you  im- 
agine she  would  stay  above  water  if  a  battery 
should  open  on  her  ?  " 

Jack  Gray  was  not  the  only  one  who  had 
little  faith  in  tin-clads,  but  some  of  tlie  most 
desperate  engagements  that  were  fought  in 
Western  waters  were  fought  by  these  very 
vessels.    If  they  wanted  to  go  anywhere  they 


CONCLUSIOIS".  445 

did  not  stop  because  there  was  a  battery  in 
their  way.  Take  one  exploit  of  the  Juliet  as 
a  fair  specimen  of  what  they  could  do  as  often 
as  the  exigencies  of  the  service  demanded  it. 
When  this  fleet  little  gunboat  was  commanded 
by  Harry  Gorringe,  the  man  who  afterward 
brought  over  the  Egyptian  obelisk  that  now 
stands  in  Central  Park,  New  York,  she  car- 
ried Admiral  Porter  past  a  long  line  of  Confed- 
erate batteries,  which  poured  upon  her  a  fire  so 
accurate  and  rapid  that  thirty-five  shells  were 
exploded  inside  her  casemates  in  less  than 
three  minutes.  The  engineer  on  watch  was 
killed  with  his  hand  on  the  throttle,  but  her 
machinery  was  not  touched  ;  and  finding  that 
she  had  come  through  the  ordeal  safe  if  not 
sound,  she  rounded  to  and  went  back  to  help 
a  vessel  which  had  not  been  so  fortunate  as 
herself.  The  Venango' s  escort  kept  company 
with  her  until  she  turned  in  to  the  plantation 
where  Jack  hoped  to  obtain  his  first  load  of 
cotton,  and  then  turned  about  and  went  down 
the  river  again,  Jack  and  the  boys  waving 
their  thanks  to  the  officers  who  stood  on  her 
boiler-deck,  and  the  Venango' s  pilot  wishing 


446  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

her  good  luck  and  warning  the  master  of  the 
plantation  at  the  same  time  by  giving  a  long 
blast  on  his  whistle. 

Sailor  Jack  began  his  trading  at  a  fortunate 
time  and  under  the  most  favorable  condi- 
tions. Not  only  was  he  one  of  the  first  to 
enter  the  field  after  Vicksburg  fell,  but  the 
men  vrith  whom  his  mother's  thirty  thousand 
dollars  enabled  him  to  form  partnership  were 
so  influential  and  shrewd,  and  had  so  many 
ways  of  finding  out  things  which  no  one  inside 
the  Union  lines  was  supposed  to  know  any- 
thing about,  that  Jack  never  left  port  with- 
out knowing  right  where  to  find  his  next 
cargo  of  cotton.  That  is  to  say,  he  knew  it 
on  every  occasion  except  one,  and  then  he  was 
ordered  into  a  trap  which  he  would  have  kept 
out  of  if  he  had  been  left  to  himself. 

The  cotton  he  found  above  Bayou  Sara  was  on 
what  was  known  as  the  Stratton  plantation, 
and  there  was  so  much  of  it  that  he  had  to  make 
four  trips  to  carry  it  to  New  Orleans,  where  it 
was  loaded  into  the  Hyperion' s  hold.  One  day 
when  his  own  deck-hands  and  all  the  planta- 
tion darkies  were  busy  loading  for  the  last  run, 


COi^fCLUSION".  447 

Jack  was  approaclied  by  three  men  in  butter- 
nut, who  wanted  to  know  what  he  was  giving 
for  cotton,  whether  he  paid  in  greenbacks  or 
Confederate  scrip,  and  if  he  would  be  willing 
to  run  up  the  river  two  hundred  miles  farther 
and  get  a  thousand  bales  that  several  citizens 
up  there  were  anxious  to  sell. 

"  Which  side  of  the  river  is  the  cotton  on  ? " 
asked  Jack. 

"  Over  there,"  said  one  of  the  men,  pointing 
toward  the  opposite  shore. 

"Too  many  rebs,"  said  Jack  shortly. 

"Thar  haint  been  ary  reb  in  our  country 
fur  more'n  six  months,  dog-gone  if  thar  has," 
replied  the  man  earnestly. 

"Well,  I  can't  make  any  promises.  The 
matter  does  not  rest  with  me,  but  with  the 
agent  in  New  Orleans." 

"I  suppose  you  pay  cash  on  delivery?" 

"Hardly.  I  don't  carry  enough  money  to 
make  it  an  object  for  prowling  guerillas  to 
rob  me." 

"  What's  Stratton  got  to  show  fur  the  cot- 
ton of  his'n  you  have  tooken  down  the 
river?" 


448  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

"Due-bills,  which  will  be  cashed  on  sight." 

"But  he'll  have  to  go  to  New  Orleans  to 
have  'em  cashed,  an'  rae  an'  my  neighbors 
dassent  go  thar.  We've  been  in  the  Confedrit 
army." 

"  Is  there  no  Union  man  up  there  whom  you 
can  trust  to  do  business  for  you  ?  " 

"Thar  aint  one  of  that  sort  within  forty 
mile  of  us." 

"Then  you  are  in  a  bad  way,  and  I  don't 
know  how  you  will  work  it  to  get  greenbacks 
for  your  cotton." 

"Couldn't  you  run  up  there  an'  buy  it  out 
an'  out  if  we  gin  you  a  little  somethin'  for 
your  trouble?" 

"No,  I  couldn't.  I  am  not  the  only  trader 
there  is  on  the  river,  and  if  you  watch  out  you 
may  find  somebody  willing  to  take  the  risk. 
I  am  not  willing." 

"They  gave  up  mighty  easy,"  observed 
Rodney,  as  the  three  men  turned  away  and 
walked  slowly  up  the  bank. 

"Don't  you  know  the  reason?"  replied 
Jack.  "They  had  no  use  for  me  when  they 
found  that  I  don't    carry    a   large    sum    of 


coNCLUsiOTsr.  449 

money  with  me.  They  haven't  a  bale  of  cot- 
ton, and  I  doubt  if  they  have  been  in  the  rebel 
army.  They  are  guerillas  and  robbers  like 
those  in  Missouri  that  Dick  told  us  about. 
No  doubt  I  shall  have  to  go  up  into  that 
country  after  this  lower  river  has  been  cleared 
of  cotton,  but  I'll  tell  the  captain  to  keep  as 
far  from  the  Arkansaw  shore  as  the  channel 
will  let  him  go." 

This  little  incident  reminded  the  boys  that 
the  war  was  not  yet  ended,  and  that  thej 
might  hear  more  about  it  at  any  time.  They 
heard  more  about  it  when  they  arrived  at  New 
Orleans  and  found  the  steamer  Von  Fhul 
lying  at  the  levee  with  her  cabin  shot  full  of 
holes.  She  had  been  fired  into  by  a  battery  of 
field-pieces  twenty  miles  below  Memphis,  but 
her  captain  was  brave,  as  most  of  the  river 
men  were,  and  could  not  be  stopped  as  long  as 
his  engines  were  in  working  order.  He  re- 
ported the  matter  to  the  captain  of  the  first 
gunboat  he  met,  and  the  latter  hastened  up 
and  shelled  the  woods  until  he  set  them  on 
fire ;  but  the  battery  that  did  the  mischief 
was  probably  a  dozen  miles  away. 

29 


450  SAILOR   JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

"There's  no  telling  how  long  it  will  be  before 
we  shall  come  here  with  our  boat  looking  just 
like  that,"  said  Jack.  "And  the  worst  of  it 
is,  we  shall  have  to  take  whatever  the  rebs 
please  to  give  us  without  firing  a  shot  in  reply. 
I  don't  like  that  pretty  well." 

But  for  a  long  time  the  Venango  was  a 
lucky  vessel.  She  was  not  obliged  to  go  very 
far  out  of  reach  of  a  gunboat  to  find  her  car- 
goes, for  the  planters  who  owned  cotton  took 
pains  to  place  it  on  the  river  at  points  where  it 
would  be  under  Federal  protection.  But  the 
supply  was  exhausted  after  a  while,  and  then 
Jack  was  ordered  into  the  dreaded  Arkansas 
region,  where  guerillas  were  plenty  and  gun- 
boats and  soldiers  stationed  far  apart.  Then 
their  troubles  began,  and  Rodney  and  Dick 
smelled  powder  again.  On  one  trip  the  Ve- 
nango was  fired  into  at  three  different  points, 
but  owing  to  her  speed  and  the  width  of  the 
river,  which  was  almost  bank  full,  she  escaped 
without  a  scratch.  On  another  occasion  the 
rebels  shot  with  better  aim,  and  sent  a  shell 
through  one  of  her  smoke-stacks  and  two 
more  through  her  cabin ;  but  little  damage 


CONCLUSION".  451 

was  done,  for  the  missiles  did  not  exj)lode 
until  they  passed  through  the  steamer  and 
struck  the  bank  on  the  opposite  side.  After 
that  it  was  seldom  that  Jack  reported  to  his 
agent  without  adding  :  "Of  course  I  was  fired 
into  on  the  way  down,"  and  sometimes  he  was 
obliged  to  say  that  he  had  had  men  killed  or 
wounded.  But  that  was  to  be  expected.  A 
wooden  boat  couldn't  make  a  business  of  run- 
ning batteries  at  regular  intervals  without  los- 
ing men  once  in  a  while. 

The  winter  passed  in  this  way,  Rodney  and 
Dick  never  missing  a  trip,  and  all  the  while 
the  agent  was  besieged  by  planters  living 
along  the  Arkansas  shore  who  had  cotton  to 
sell,  who  had  permits  to  ship  it  and  papers  to 
prove  that  they  had  always  been  loyal  to  the 
government,  and  who  were  ready  to  stake 
their  reputation  as  gentlemen  upon  the  truth 
of  the  statement  that  the  trading  boat  that 
came  to  their  landings  would  not  run  the 
slightest  risk  of  falling  into  the  hands  of 
guerillas.  When  the  agent  spoke  to  Jack 
about  it   the  latter  said : 

"If  you  want  to  take  the  responsibility, 


452  SAILOR   JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

why,  all  right.  If  you  order  me  to  go  after 
that  cotton  I'll  go  ;  but  before  you  do  it,  I'd 
like  to  have  you  recall  tlie  fact  tliat  the  trad- 
ing boats  Tacoma  and  George  Williams  were 
all  right  and  made  money  until  they  were  sent 
to  the  Arkansas  shore,  and  then  they  went  up  in 
smoke.  And  every  shot  that  has  been  fired  at 
my  boat  came  from  the  west  bank  of  the  river." 

"  This  cotton  is  at  Horseshoe  Bend  opposite 
Friar's  Point,"  continued  the  agent,  "and 
you  will  have  five  or  six  gunboats  within  less 
than  a  dozen  miles  of  you." 

"  What  of  that « "  replied  Jack.  "  A  party 
of  half  a  dozen  men  could  set  fire  to  the  boat 
and  ride  away  to  Texas  before  the  gunboats 
would  know  anything  about  it.  They  might 
as   well   be  a  hundred  miles  away." 

"And  more,"  the  agent  went  on,  "two  of 
the  planters  who  own  this  cotton  are  willing 
to  remain  here  as  hostages,  and  they  say  that 
if  anything  happens  to  you  or  your  boat  we 
can  do  what  we  please  with  them," 

"  What  of  that  %  "  repeated  Jack.  "  If  the 
Venango  is  burned,  who  is  going  to  punish 
those  hostages  ?    We  have  no  right  to  do  it, 


CONCLUSION.  453 

and  you  do  not  for  a  moment  suppose  that 
General  Banks  would  interest  himself  in  the 
matter?  He's  got  government  business  to  at- 
tend to,  and  don't  care  a  cent  what  happens  to 
us  or  any  other  civilians.  I'll  go  after  the 
cotton  if  you  say  so,  bat  you'll  never  see  the 
Venango  again,  and  the  firm  will  have  to  pay 
for  her." 

This  frightened  the  agent  for  a  while,  and 
he  told  Jack  to  stay  on  the  safe  side  of  the 
river  and  let  the  Arkansaw  people  get  their 
cotton  to  market  the  best  way  they  could. 
These  orders  remained  in  force  about  three 
months,  and  then  came  a  fateful  day  when  the 
only  cotton  the  agent  knew  anything  about 
was  on  the  Arkansas  side,  eight  miles  above 
Skipwith's  Landing. 

"I really  think  it  will  be  a  safe  undertak- 
ing," said  the  agent,  "for  you  will  be  within 
plain  sight  of  two  iron-clads  and  the  ram 
Samson^  which  are  lying  at   Skipwith's." 

"I  wouldn't  give  that  for  all  the  help  I'll 
get  from  the  whole  of  them,"  declared  Jack, 
snapping  his  fingers  in  the  air.  "They'll  not 
know  that  trouble  has  come  to  me  till  they  see 


454  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

my  boat  in  flames,  and  how  long  will  it  take 
one  of  those  tubs  of  iron-clads  to  get  up  steam 
and  run  eight  miles  against  the  current  of  the 
Mississippi?  The  Venango  will  be  in  ashes 
before  one  of  them  will  come  within  shelling 
distance  of  us." 

"But  there's  the  Samson.  She  can  run 
seventeen  miles  an  hour  against  a  four-mile 
current." 

"  And  what  is  the  Samson  but  a  carpenter 
shop,  with  no  guns  and  a  crew  of  darkies  ?  Do 
you  want  me  to  go  there  or  not  ? " 

The  agent  did  what  Longstreet  is  said  to 
have  done  when  General  Lee  told  him  to  order 
Pickett's  useless  charge  at  Gettysburg ;  he 
looked  down  at  the  ground  and  evaded  a  direct 
answer. 

"  We  want  cotton  enough  to  fill  out  the 
Hyperion^ s  cargo,"  said  he,  "and  that's  the 
only  batch  on  the  river  that  I  have  been  able 
to  hear  of." 

"  Then  I'll  start  after  it  in  less  than  an  hour  ; 
but  whether  or  not  I'll  get  it  is  another  and  a 
deeper  question.     Good-by." 

Jack  walked  off  whistling,  for  trouble  sat 


CONCLUSION.  455 

lightly  on  liis  broad  shoulders,  but  the  moment 
he  stepped  on  the  Yenango'  s  boiler-deck  and 
faced  the  two  boys  sitting  there,  they  knew 
what  had  happened  as  well  as  they  did  when 
it  was  explained  to  them. 

"  I  can  see  Arkansas  written  all  over  you," 
exclaimed  Rodney. 

"And  can  you  see  that  I  want  you  two  to 
be  ready  to  leave  the  boat  at  Baton  Rouge  ?" 
replied  Jack.  "  We'll  not  make  a  landing, 
but  just  run  close  enough  to  give  you  a  chance 
to  jump." 

"I  never  could  jump  worth  a  cent,"  said 
Dick. 

"Look  here,  Jack,  we're  not  little  boys  to 
be  disposed  of  in  any  such  way  as  you  propose. 
We  have  seen  as  much  service  as  you  have, 
and  if  it  is  all  the  same  to  you  we'll  stay  here. 
I  am  not  going  home  to  worry  my  folks  with 
the  report  that  you  are  going  into  such  danger 
that  you  thought  it  best  to  drop  us  overboard," 
chimed  in  Rodney. 

"If  the  guerillas  catch  us  they'll  only  put 
us  afoot,"  observed  Dick.  "  That's  what  they 
did  with  the  TacomoC s  crew." 


456  SAILOR   JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

Good-natured  Jack  turned  on  his  lieel  and 
walked  away,  showing  by  his  actions  that  lie 
did  not  expect  his  order  to  be  obeyed.  In  an 
hour's  time  the  Venango  was  on  her  way  up 
the  river.  She  passed  Skip  with' s  Landing 
the  next  night  after  dark,  running  close  enough 
in  to  give  the  boys  an  indistinct  view  of  the 
long  black  hull  of  the  ram  Samson,  lying 
alongside  the  repair  shops,  and  the  battle- 
scarred  iron-clads  at  anchor  a  short  distance 
farther  up,  and  in  due  time  she  was  whistling 
for  the  landing  on  the  Arkansas  shore  eight 
miles  above.  It  was  dark  there,  and  the  boys 
could  see  nothing  but  a  dense  forest  outlined 
against  the  sky,  and  not  the  first  sign  of  a  clear- 
ing ;  but  that  there  was  somebody  on  the 
watch  was  made  evident  a  few  minutes  later, 
for  an  iron  torch  basket  filled  with  blazing 
"fat  wood,"  such  as  steamers  use  when  mak- 
ing a  landing  or  coaling  at  night,  was  planted 
upon  the  levee,  and  the  pilot  steered  in  by  the 
aid  of  the  light  it  threw  out.  There  were  three 
men  on  the  levee  and  a  few  bales  of  cotton 
near  by. 

"Is  that  all  you  have?"  demanded  Jack, 


CONCLUSION.  457 

as  the  Yenango'  s  bow  touched  the  bank  and  a 
couple  of  deck-hands  sprang  ashore  with  a 
line. 

"What  boat  is  that?"  asked  one  of  the 
men. 

Jack  gave  her  name,  adding  the  informa- 
tion that  he  had  been  sent  there  for  cotton, 
and  there  wasn't  enough  in  sight  to  load  a 
skiff. 

"  Oh,  we've  got  plenty  more  back  there  in 
the   woods,"  was   the   answer. 

"But  I  don't  want  it  back  there  in  the 
woods,"  shouted  Jack,  from  his  perch  on  the 
roof.  "  I  want  it  on  the  levee  where  I  can  get 
at  it." 

"We've  got  teams  enough  to  haul  it  out 
faster  than  you  can  load  it.  It's  all  right, 
cap'n.  I  had  a  long  talk  with  your  agent 
only  a  few  days   ago." 

"It's  all  wrong,  and  you  may  dex3end  upon 
it,"  said  Rodney  in  a  low  tone. 

Jack  Grray  was  of  the  same  opinion,  and  if 
he  had  not  been  afraid  that  the  men  with 
whom  he  was  associated  in  business  would 
accuse  him  of  cowardice,  he  would  have  cut 


458  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

the  bow-line,  wliicli  had  by  this  time  been 
made  fast  to  a  tree  on  the  bank,  and  backed 
away  with  all  possible  speed.  Instead  of  do- 
ing that,  he  descended  the  stairs  and  walked 
down  the  gang-plank,  while  Rodney  and 
Dick  drew  off  to  one  side  to  compare 
notes. 

"If  it's  all  right,  what's  the  reason  they 
didn't  have  the  cotton  ready  for  us?"  said 
the  latter. 

"That's  what  I'd  be  pleased  to  know,"  said 
Rodney.  "  Do  you  believe  there's  any  cotton 
here?" 

"  Not  a  bale  except  the  few  you  see  on  the 
levee,  and  which  were  put  there  for  a  blind. 
Your  cousin  believes  he's  in  a  trap  or  else  his 
face  told  a  wrong  story." 

"That's  my  opinion,  too.  Now  don't  you 
think  it  would  be  a  good  plan  for  us  to  put 
the  skiff  into  the  water  and  go  down  and  tell 
those  gunboats  about  it  ?  " 

"It  might,  but  what  shall  Ave  tell  them? 
There's  been  nothing  done  yet,"  replied  Dick, 
as  he  followed  Rodney  to  the  main-deck. 

That  was  true,   but    there  was  something 


coisrcLUSioisr.  459 

done  by  tlie  time  they  got  the  skiff  overboard. 
It  was  lying  bottom  nj)  on  the  guard  just 
abaft  the  door  that  gave  entrance  into  the 
engine-room  on  the  port  side,  that  is,  the  side 
away  from  the  bank,  and  the  oars  that  be- 
longed to  it  were  stowed  under  the  thwarts. 
Jack  was  ashore,  the  mates  were  on  the  fore- 
castle, the  deck-hands  busy  with  the  breast 
and  stern  lines,  the  captain  was  at  his  post  on 
the  roof,  the  engineer  Avas  at  the  throttle, 
slowly  turning  the  wheel  to  work  the  boat 
broadside  to  the  bank,  and  there  was  no  one 
to  observe  their  movements.  Noiselessly  they 
pushed  the  skiff  into  the  water,  then  stepped 
in  and  shipped  the  oars  and  pulled  toward  the 
steamer's  bow,  edging  away  a  little  into  the 
darkness  so  that  they  could  not  be  seen  by 
anyone  on  shore.  A  subdued  exclamation  of 
surprise  and  alarm  burst  from  their  lips  when 
they  pulled  far  enough  ahead  so  that  they 
could  look  over  the  bow  toward  the  cotton- 
bales  on  the  bank.  There  were  a  score  of  men 
there  now,  and  with  the  exception  of  the  three 
who  were  there  when  the  boat  touched  the 
bank,  they  were  all  armed  and  wore  spurs. 


460  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

"Guerillas?"  whispered  Dick. 

"Do  you  think  we  will  have  anything  to 
tell  the  gunboats?"  asked  Rodney.  "Turn 
her  around  and  pull  the  best  you  know 
how." 

"It  looks  cowardly  to  run  away  and  leave 
Jack,"  replied  Dick,  laying  out  all  his  strength 
on  his  oar. 

"  We  wouldn't  do  it  if  we  could  help  him  in 
any  other  way.  But  they  won't  hurt  him. 
It's  the  boat  they're  after,"  said  Rodney ; 
but  even  while  the  words  were  on  his  lips  he 
could  not  help  wondering  if  the  guerillas  did 
not  expect  to  find  a  large  sum  of  money  on  the 
boat,  and  whether  their  disappointment  would 
not  make  them  so  angry  that  they  would  take 
vengeance  on  somebody.  But  there  was  no 
way  in  which  he  could  stop  it  except  by  bring- 
ing a  gunboat  to  the  rescue,  and  with  this 
object  in  view  he  "pulled  the  best  he  knew 
how."  He  and  Dick  kept  the  skiff  in  the 
channel  in  order  to  get  the  benefit  of  the 
current,  and  in  less  time  than  they  thought 
to  do  so,  brought  themselves  within  hailing 
distance  of  one  of  the  iron-clads. 


CONCLUSIOIf.  461 

"  Boat  ahoy  !  "  shouted  a  hoarse  voice  from 
her  deck. 

"  Trading  boat  Venango  !  "  responded  Rod- 
ney, hoping  to  give  the  officer  of  the  deck 
some  idea  of  the   nature  of  their  business. 

The  latter  must  have  heard  and  understood, 
for  he  told  them  to  come  alongside  ;  and  wheu 
the  order  had  been  obeyed,  not  without  a  good 
deal  of  difficulty,  for  the  current  ran  like  a 
mill  sluice,  and  the  officer  of  the  deck  had 
listened  to  their  hasty  story,  he  went  below  to 
speak  to  the  captain,  who,  after  a  long  delay, 
sent  word  for  them  to  be  brought  into  the 
cabin.  But  the  sequel  j)roved  that  he  had 
done  something  in  the  meantime.  He  had 
told  the  ensign  on  watch  to  arouse  the  execu- 
tive, to  have  two  companies  of  small-arm 
men  called  away,  and  to  send  word  to  the 
Samson  to  raise  steam  immediately.  Being  a 
regular,  the  captain  lost  no  time.  After  listen- 
ing to  what  the  boys  had  to  say,  he  gave  them 
permission  to  go  aboard  the  Samson  with  the 
small-arm  men,  and  in  ten  minutes  more  the 
boat  that  could  run  seventeen  miles  an  hour 
against  a  four-mile  current  was  ploughing  her 


462  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

way  up  the  river  at  an  astonishing  rate  of 
speed.  But  the  guerillas  hadn't  wasted  any- 
time either.  Before  the  ram  had  left  the  iron- 
clads a  mile  astern,  a  small,  bright  light, 
which  grew  larger  and  brighter  every  instant, 
shone  through  the  darkness  ahead,  and  pres- 
ently the  Venango  came  floating  down  with 
the  current,  a  mass  of  flame.  After  robbing 
her  of  everything  of  value,  the  guerillas  had 
applied  the  torch  and  turned  her  adrift.  But 
where  were  Jack  Gray  and  her  crew?  This 
question  was  answered  at  day-light  the  next 
morning  when  Rodney  and  Dick  pulled  the, 
skiff  back  to  the  landing,  where  they  found 
Jack  sitting  on  a  cotton-bale,  and  whittling  a 
stick  as  composedly  as  though  such  a  thing  as 
a  guerilla  had  never  been  heard  of.  His  crew 
were  asleep  behind  the  levee,  and  Jack  was 
keeping  watch  for  a  steamer  bound  down. 
The  guerillas  hadn't  bothered  him  any  to 
speak  of,  he  said,  although  they  did  swear  a 
little  when  they  learned  that  he  had  no  money. 
They  affirmed  that  if  they  couldn't  make  a  dol- 
lar a  pound  out  of  their  cotton,  the  Yankees 
shouldn't  do  it,  and  they  would  burn  every 


CONCLUSION.  463 

trading  boat  that  Jack  or  anybody  else  put  on 
the  river.  But  they  never  burned  another  boat 
for  Jack.  A  steamer  which  came  along  that 
afternoon  took  him  and  his  crew  to  N'ew 
Orleans,  and  there  he  took  leave  of  the  boys, 
who  did  not  see  him  again  for  a  long  time. 
But  before  they  parted,  however,  he  showed 
them  a  letter  from  Marcy,  in  which  the  latter 
stated  that  Charley  Bowen  had  shipped  on  a 
Union  gunboat  at  Plymouth.  Being  a  deserter 
from  the  rebel  army,  he  was  afraid  to  enlist  in 
the  land  forces,  for  if  he  were  captured  and 
recognized  he  would  certainly  be  shot  to  death. 
He  thought  there  would  be  little  danger  of 
that  if  he  went  to  sea. 

The  trading  business  having  been  broken 
up  Rodney  was  anxious  to  see  his  home  once 
more,  and  that  was  where  he  and  Dick  started 
for  as  soon  as  they  had  seen  the  Hyperion 
drop  down  the  river  with  Jack  Gray  on  board. 
Rodney's  father  and  mother  had  heard  of  the 
loss  of  the  Venango,  but  they  did  not  know 
what  had  become  of  her  company,  and  the 
boys'  return  was  an  occasion  for  rejoicing. 
At  the  end  of  the  month  Dick  Graham  also 


464  SAILOR  JACK,  THE   TRADER. 

went  home,  and  tlien  Rodney  was  lonely 
indeed.  If  lie  hadn't  had  plenty  of  work  and 
energy  enough  to  go  at  it,  it  is  hard  to  tell 
what  he  would  have  done  with  himself.  For 
want  of  some  better  way  of  passing  his  leisure 
moments  he  made  an  effort  to  learn  what  had 
become  of  Billings,  Cole,  Dixon,  and  all  the 
other  Barrington  boys  who  had  promised,  with 
him,  to  enlist  in  the  Confederate  army  with- 
in twenty-four  hours  after  they  reached  home. 
He  knew  their  several  addresses,  but  the  only 
one  he  heard  from  was  Dixon,  the  tall  Ken- 
tuckian  who,  good  rebel  as  he  was,  always  in- 
terfered whenever  the  hot  heads  among  the 
academy  boys  tried  to  haul  down  the  Old  Flag 
and  run  the  Stars  and  Bars  up  in  its  place. 
And  the  reply  he  received  did  not  come  from 
Dixon  himself  but  from  his  sister,  who  told 
Rodney  that  her  brother  had  been  killed  at 
the  head  of  his  regiment  while  gallantly  lead- 
ing a  charge  upon  a  Federal  battery.  He 
went  into  th^  Confederate  army  a  private  and 
died  a  colonel. 

"  Bully  for  Dixon,"  said  Rodney,  with  tears 
in  his  eyes.     "He  always  was  a  brave  boy." 


CONCLUSION.  465 

At  lasfc  Atlanta  fell,  Sherman  marclied  to 
tlie  sea,  the  battle  of  Five  Forks  was  fought, 
the  grand  result  of  which  was  to  reduce  Gen- 
eral Lee's  army  of  seventy-six  thousand  to 
less  than  twenty-nine  thousand  men,  and  then 
came  the  surrender  at  Appomattox.  A  short 
time  afterward  came  also  a  joyous  letter  from 
Marcy  Gray,  in  which  he  said  that  although 
Plymouth  had  once  been  recaptured  by  the 
rebels,  aided  by  their  formidable  iron-clad,  the 
Albemarle^  which  had  worsted  the  Union  gun- 
boats every  time  they  met  her,  the  city  did 
not  remain  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy  any 
longer  than  it  took  Lieutenant  Gushing  to 
blow  up  the  iron-clad  with  his  torpedo;  and 
then,  their  main-stay  being  gone,  the  rebels 
again  surrendered.  He  and  his  mother  had  not 
been  troubled  in  any  way  since  the  night  Cap- 
tain Fletcher  took  him  to  Williamston  jail. 
If  it  had  not  been  for  the  papers  that  occa- 
sionally came  into  their  hands,  they  would  not 
have  known  that  dreadful  battles  were  being 
fought  in  the  next  State.  There  had  been 
peace  and  quiet  in  the  settlement  since  Allison, 
Goodwin,  and  Beardsley  were  bushwhacked. 

30 


466  SAILOR  JACK,  THE  TRADER. 

It  was  a  terrible  thing  for  Christians  to  do,  but 
the  refugees  had  been  driven  to  it,  and  through 
no  fault  of  their  own.  The  two  foragers  who 
were  captured  on  the  night  that  Ben  Hawkins 
was  surprised  in  his  father's  house,  and  who 
were  sent  South  to  act  as  guards  at  the  Ander- 
sonville  prison  pen,  had  escaped  after  a  few 
months'  service,  and  were  now  at  home  with 
their  families.  So  were  Hawkins  and  all  the 
rest  of  the  prisoners  who  were  cai)tured  and 
paroled  at  Roanoke  Island,  and  they  had 
never  been  molested.  No  word  had  been  re- 
ceived from  Charley  Bowen  since  he  shipped 
in  the  Union  Navy,  but  Marcy  hoped  to  see 
him  again  at  no  distant  day,  for  he  never  could 
forget  that  Charley  saved  his  life.  Sailor 
Jack  had  made  a  "good  thing"  out  of  his 
trading,  and  had  promised  his  mother  that  he 
would  not  go  to  sea  any  more.  As  a  family 
they  were  prosperous  and  hoped  to  be  happy, 
now  that  the  cause  of  the  war  was  dead  and 
the  war  itself  ended.  Marcy  concluded  his  in- 
teresting letter  by  saying : 

"  While  I  write,  the  flag  my  Barrington  girl 
gave  me  is  waving  from  the  house-top,  and 


CONCLUSION.  467 

tliere  is  not  a  rebel  banner  floating  to  taint  the 
breeze  that  kisses  it.  May  it  ever  be  so— one 
flag,  one  country,  one  destiny." 

"  Amen,"  said  Rodney  Gray  solemnly. 


THE  END  OF  THE  SERIES. 


The 

Famous 

Castlemon 

Books. 

BY 

Harry 
Castlemon. 


Specimen  Cover  of  the  Gunboat 
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PORTER   ft   COATES'S   POPULAR  JUVENILES.  $ 

ROUGHING  IT  SERIES.  By  Harry  Castlemon. 
3  vols.,  l2mo.  Fully  illustrated.  Cloth,  extra,  printed 
in  colors.     In  box 1^3  7, "J 

George  in  Camp ;  or,  Life  on  the  Plains 12$ 

George  at  the  "Wheel ;  or,  Life  in  a  Pilot  House  ,  i  2$ 

George  at  the  Port ;  or.  Life  Among  the  Soldiers  .  I  25 

ROD  AND  GUN  SERIES.  By  Harry  Castlemon. 
3  vols.,  i2mo.  Fully  illustrated.  Cloth,  extra,  printed 
in  colors.     In  box ^3  75 

Don  Gordon's  Shooting  Box i  25 

Rod  and  Gun i  25 

The  Young  Wild  Fowlers i  25 

FOREST  AND  STREAM  SERIES.     By  Harry 

Castlemon.     3  vols.,  l2mo.     Fully  illustrated.     Cloth, 
extra,  printed  in  colors.     In  box ^3  7S 

Joe  Wayring  at  Home  ;  or,  Story  of  a  Fly  Rod    .  i  25 

Snagged  and  Sunk  ;  or,  The  Adventures  of  a  Can- 
vas Canoe  ^25 

Steel  Horse ;  or.  The  Rambles  of  a  Bicycle  ....  I  25 

WAR  SERIES.  By  Harry  Castlemon.  4  vols., 
l2mo.      Fully  illustrated.      Cloth,   extra,   printed  in 

colors.     In  box 5  00 

True  to  his  Colors i  25 

Rodney,  the  Partisan i  25 

Marcy,  the  Blockade  Runner i  25 

Marcy,  the  Refugee i  25 

OUR  FELLOWS ;  or,  Skirmishes  with  the  Swamp 
Dragoons.  By  Harry  Castlemon.  i6mo.  Fully  illus- 
trated.   Cloth,  extra 1  25 


Alger's 

Renowned 

Books. 

BY 

Horatio 

LGER,  Jr. 


Specimen  Cover  of  the  Ragged 
Dick  Series. 

Horatio  Alger,  Jr.,  has  attained  distinction  as  one  of  the  most  popular 
Writers  of  books  for  boys,  and  the  following  list  comprises  all  of  his  b«»t 
books. 

***  Any  volume  sold  separately. 


RAGGED  DICK  SERIES.  By  Horatio  Alger, 
Jr.  6  vols.,  i2mo.  Fully  illustrated.  Cloth,  extra, 
printed  in  colors.     In  box Jj57  5® 

Ragged  Dick  ;  or,  Street  Life  in  New  York    .   .   , 


I  25 


Fame  and  Fortune ;  or.  The  Progress  of  Richard 
Hunter 

Mark,  the  Match  Boy ;  or,  Richard  Hunter's  Ward 

Rough  and  Ready ;  or,  Life  among  the  New  York 
Newsboys 

Ben,  the  Luggage  Boy  ;  or,  Among  the  Wharves    . 

Rufus  and  Rose  ;  or,  the  Fortunes  of  Rough  and 
Ready    

TATTERED  TOM  SERIES.  (First  Series.) 
By  Horatio  Alger,  Jr.  4  vols.,  i2mo.  Fully  illus- 
trated.    Cloth,  extra,  printed  in  colors.     In  box  ,    ,    . 

(4) 


25 

25 

25 
25 


I  25 


5  00 


PORTER  &  COATES'S  POPULAR  JUVENILES.         5 

Tattered  Tom  ;  or,  The  Story  of  a  Street  Arab       ,    .       »:  25 

Paul,  the  Peddler;  or,  The  Adventures  of  a  Young 

Street  Merchant I   25 

Phil,  the  Fiddler ;  or,  The  Young  Street  Musician    .       i  25 

Slow  and  Sure ;  or,  From  the  Sidewalk  to  the  Shop     i  25 

TATTERED  TOM  SERIES.     (Second  Series.) 
4  vols.,  l2mo.     Fully  illustrated.     Cloth,  extra,  printed 


Julius ;  or  the  Street  Boy  Out  West 125 

The  Young  Outlaw  ;  or.  Adrift  in  the  World  ...  I  25 

Sam's  Chance  and  Ho'w  He  Improved  it  .    .    .  i  25 

The  Telegraph  Boy i  25 

LUCK  AND  PLUCK  SERIES.  (First  Series.) 
By  Horatio  Alger,  Jr.  4  vols.,  i2mo.  Fully  illus- 
trated.    Cloth,  extra,  printed  in  colors.     In  box  ...  §5  00 

Luck  and  Pluck ;  or  John  Oakley's  Inheritance    .    .  i  25 

Sink  or  S'wim ;  or,  Harry  Raymond's  Resolve   ...  i  25 

Strong  and  Steady ;  or,  Paddle  Your  Own  Canoe  .  i  25 

Strive   and    Succeed;    or,  The  Progress  of  Walter 

Conrad i  25 

LUCK  AND  PLUCK  SERIES.  (Second 
Series.)  By  Horatio  Alger,  Jr.  3  vols.,  i2mo. 
Fully  illustrated.     Cloth,  extra,  printed  in  colors.     In 

box ^5  00 

Try  and  Trust ;  or,  The  Story  of  a  Bound  Boy  ...  i  25 

Bound  to  Rise  ;  or  Harry  Walton's  Motto i  25 

Risen  from  the  Ranks ;  or,  Harry  Walton's  Success  i  25 

Herbert  Carter's  Legacy  ;  or,  The  Inventor's  Son  .  i  25 

CAMPAIGN  SERIES.  By  Horatio  Alger,  Jr.  3 
vols.,  i2mo.     Fully  illustrated.     Cloth,  extra,  printed 

in  colors.     In  box S3  75 

I'rank's  Campaign  ;  or,  The  Farm  and  the  Camp    .  i  25 

Fual  Prescott's  Charge i  25 

Charlie  Codman's  Cruise i  25 


6        PORTER  &  COATES'S  POPULAR  JUVENILES. 

BRAVE  AND  BOLD  SERIES.  By  Horatio 
Alger,  Jr.  4  vols.,  i2mo.  Fully  illustrated.  Cloth, 
extra,  printed  in  colors.     In  box 55  00 

Brave  and  Bold ;  or,  The  Story  of  a  Factory  Boy  .   .      i  25 

Jack's  "Ward ;  or,  The  Boy  Guardian I  25 

Shifting  for  Himself;  or,  Gilbert  Greyson's  For- 
tunes        ''25 

Wait  and  Hope  ;  or,  Ben  Bradford's  Motto   ....       i  25 

PACIFIC  SERIES.  By  Horatio  Alger,  Jr.  4 
vols.  i2mo.  Fully  illustrated.  Cloth,  extra,  printed 
in  colors.     In  box $5  Oo 

The   Young  Adventurer;  or,  Tom's  Trip  Across 

the  Plains I   25 

The  Young  Miner ;  or,  Tom  Nelson  in  California   .       I  2$ 

The  Young  Explorer  ;  or,  Among  the  Sierras     .    .       1  25 

Ben's  Nugget ;  or,  A  Boy's  Search  for  Fortune.     A 

Story  of  the  Pacific  Coast i  2i« 

ATLANTIC  SERIES.  By  Horatio  Alger,  Jr.  4 
vols.,  i2mo.  Fully  illustrated.  Cloth,  extra,  printed 
in  colors.     In  box $5  °° 

The   Young   Circus   Rider;   or,  The   Mystery  of 

Robert  Rudd i  25 

Do  and  Dare  ;  or,  A  Brave  Boy's  Fight  for  Fortune   .       I  25 

Hector's  Inheritance  ;  or.  Boys  of  Smith  Institute  .       I  25 

Helping  Himself ;  or,  Grant  Thornton's  Ambition     .       I  25 

"WAY  TO  SUCCESS  SERIES.  By  Horatio 
Alger,  Jr.  4  vols.,  i2mo.  Fully  illustrated.  Cloth, 
extra,  printed  in  colors.     In  box ^5  °° 

Bob  Burton i  25 

The  Store  Boy i  25 

Luke  Walton i  25 

Struggling  Upward i  25 

New  Book  by  Alger. 

DIGGING   FOR  GOLD.      By  Horatio  Alger,  Jr. 

Illustrated  1 2mo.     Cloth,  black,  red  and  gold     ...      125 


A 

New  Series 
ot  Books. 

Indian  Life 

and 

Character 

Founded  on 

Historical 

Facts. 


Specimen  Cover  ot  the  Wyoming 
Series. 


By  Edward  S.  Ellis. 

0*,  A  ny  volume  sold  separately. 


BOY  PIONEER  SERIES.  By  Edward  S.  Ellis. 
3  vols.,  l2mo.     Fully  illustrated.     Cloth,  extra,  printed 

in  colors.     In  box ^3  75 

Ned  in  the  Block  House  ;  or,  Life  on  the  Frontier,     i  25 
Ned  in  the  "Woods.     A  Tale  of  the  Early  Days  in 

the  West »  25 

Ned  on  the  River i  2S 

DEERPOOT  SERIES.  By  Edward  S.  Ellis.  In 
box  containing  the  following.  3  vols.,  i2nio.  Illus- 
trated         •'    ...    $3  75 

Hunters  of  the  Ozark i  25 

Camp  in  the  Mountains i  25 

The  Last  T?7ar  Trail i  25 

LOG  CABIN  SERIES.  By  Edward  S.  Ellis. 
3  vols.,  i2mo.  Fully  illustrated.  Cloth,  extra,  printed 
in  colors.    In  box ^3  75 

(7) 


8  VORTER   &   COATES'S   POPULAR   JUVENILES. 

Lost  Trail $12% 

Camp  Fire  and  Wigw^am I  25 

Footprints  in  the  Forest i  25 

"WYOMING  SERIES.  By  Edward  S.  Ellis.  3 
vols.,  i2nio.     Fully  illustrated.     Cloth,  extra,  printed 

in  colors.     In  box $3  75 

TVyoming i  25 

Storm  Mountain i  25 

Cabin  in  the  Clearing i  25 

New  Books  by  Edward  S.  Ellis. 
Through  Forest  and  Fire.     lamo.    Cloth    ...      i  25 
On  the  Trail  of  the  Moose.     i2mo.     Cloth    .   .      i  25 

By  C.  A.  Stephens. 

Rare  books  for  boys— bright,  breezy,  wholesome  and  instructive;  full  of 
adveniure  and  incident,  and  inforniati  n  upon  natural  history.  Ti.ey  blend 
instruction  with  amusement — contain  much  useful  and  valuable  information 
upon  the  habits  of  animali,  and  plenty  of  adventure,  fun  and  jollity. 

CAMPING  OUT  SERIES.  By  C.  A.  Stephens. 
6  vols.,  I2mo.  Fully  illustrated.  Cloth,  extra,  printed 
in  colors.     In  box .    J?7  5<^ 

Camping  Out.     As  recorded  by  "  Kit  " i   25 

Left  on  Labrador ;  or  The  Cruise  of  the  Schooner 

Yacht  "  Curfew."     As  recorded  by  "  Wash  "    ....       i   25 

Off  to  the  Geysers  ;  or,  The  Young  Yachters  in  Ice- 
land.    As  recorded  by ''Wade' i   25 

Lynx    Hunting.       From    Notes   by   the    author    of 

"  Camping  Out  " I   25 

Fox  Hunting.    As  recorded  by  "  Raed  " r     i  25 

On  the  Amazon  ;  or,  The  Cruise  of  the"  Rambler." 
As  recorded  by  "Wash  " I   25 


By  J.  T.  Trowbridge. 


These  stories  will  rank  among  the  best  of  Mr.  Tr  wbridge's  books  for  the 
young — and  he  has  written  some  of  the  be>t  of  our  juvenile  1  cerature. 

JACK  HAZARD  SERIES.  By  J.  T.  Trowbridge. 
6  V(.'ls.,  i2mo.  Fully  Illustrated.  Cloth,  extra,  printed 
in  colors.     In  box $7  S^ 


RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 

Wilmer 
463 


